Blackout
by arthemys
Summary: Immediate sequel to The shadows of the past. After the dissolution of Fourth Echelon, Sam Fisher is completely depressed. But new challenges surge forward, leaving him with no choice but going on, supported by his faithful team. As usual, I do not own Splinter Cell or any of its characters, except some OC. And as usual, please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **Hi everyone! I've finally found the courage to write the sequel to The shadows of the past I wanted so much. But know that the updating rate will be slower than my previous stories, partly because I choose to write longer chapters, and partly because I have less time to write. But I'll write the whole story, don't worry! One thing I really can't stand on this wonderful website is abandoned fanfics, so it won't happen with this one, that I can assure you! As usual enjoy and please write a review!**

Chapter 1

Grim was worried. It was Saturday morning, three hours from going to the White House to meet the President of the United States of America and be awarded some medals for their work within Fourth Echelon, but Sam wasn't ready at all. Worse, he had told her the evening before, drinking too much whisky, that he didn't want to go. She had pursed her lips but hadn't said anything, knowing that his forced retirement and the dissolution of Fourth Echelon were very difficult to accept for him, in spite of the good news about his family.

But now they had to dress up and Sam was still locked up in his office, sulking and grumbling. She decided to give it another try and went in front of his door. She gently knocked and said:

_ Sam, honey? We'll have to leave in a few minutes.

_ I'm not going, she heard through the thick door. You just go.

_ Sam, she sighed in concern. I won't go without you. You were Fourth Echelon's commander, you have to be there, honey. You just can't skip an appointment with the President.

_ Sure I can! he suddenly roared, and she heard some books falling on the floor. What do I care about some useless medals? They won't make it up for what McMurdoch did! He fucking dissolved Fourth Echelon! Because of him we're all fucking retired now!

Some things went tumbling down again, and she understood that Sam wouldn't be reasoned to sense. He was much too angry and bitter. For one week he had seemed to accept the news quite well, but now he was probably realizing what retirement would mean for him. And he knew that Charlie, Kestrel and Briggs would start working for his best friend Victor Coste on Monday, and that he would be the only remaining man of the team without any activity.

She heard him hitting his punch bag again, and she went back to the kitchen. For the last two days the man she loved had spent his time in his office, drinking whisky and hitting his punch bag, not eating and snapping at her when she came to see him. She knew he loved her and was concerned about her pregnancy, but now she feared he was slowly falling into a nervous breakdown. He had to cope with a brutal retirement after forty years of a very dangerous and action-filled life, and his osteoarthritis which would prevent him from having any physical activity.

Worried out of her mind, she picked up her phone and called Kestrel. She knew that only Sam's two ops would be able to help him, and her.

_ Yes?

_ Mishka, it's Grim.

_ Hello, Grim! I didn't expect any call from you. Is our appointment cancelled?

She felt reassured by the ops' calm voice and heaved a huge sigh. Kestrel had a knack for comforting people, and right now she badly needed some comfort.

_ No, it's not cancelled, as far as I know. But we have a problem.

_ What problem? he asked in concern.

_ It's Sam. He has locked himself up in his office since two days ago and adamantly refuses to go to the White House. I don't know what to do, Mishka. He won't listen to me.

_ Sam is quite stubborn, Kestrel said evenly. But we can't go without him. Don't worry, Grim. We're already ready. I'll have Elena and Aliosha in the car in two minutes, and we'll come. And Sam won't stay locked up, that I can assure you. He'll have to open the door if he doesn't want to call his carpenter another time.

_ I'd be glad if we could avoid that indeed, she said, relieved. I'll call Briggs and Charlie.

_ Okay. See you in about fifteen minutes, then.

_ Thanks a lot, Mishka.

_ My honor.

The line went dead, and she called Briggs and Charlie. The two of them said they were coming immediately, reassuring her. Then she prepared a coffee and some bagels, and heard the first car stopping in front of their house. She went to open the door and saw Kestrel and Elena climbing down the car.

Elena picked up her son as Kestrel limped towards her, still leaning on his wooden cane, and her heart squeezed in sadness. The ops' leg was still impairing him, and it hurt to see him limping and walking with a cane after seeing him being a very gifted field operative for the last seven years. But he had survived the attack in Washington and saved James, her grandson, and even if he would never be an ops anymore, he had found a job and most of all a loving family, and he seemed happy.

She kissed him on both cheeks and he asked her seriously:

_ Is Sam still in his office?

_ Yes, she nodded as Elena and Aliosha reached them and told her hello. Briggs is coming, and so is Charlie. They won't be long.

_ Then let's wait for them, Kestrel said calmly. The more the better.

She nodded and led them inside, pouring them a coffee and some orange juice for Aliosha. Kestrel was obviously listening intently, eyes absent-mindedly fixing their fridge, then he said:

_ Sam is punching his bag. He sounds devastated.

_ Can you hear him from here? she asked in astonishment and worry.

_ Yes. He's swearing badly.

The ops didn't elaborate but Grim felt dismay tightening her chest. She knew things were going to be difficult for the man she loved, but she hoped he would have some of his legendary courage left to live on and overcome his state.

She got up when she heard two other cars and went to open the front door for Briggs and Molly with Charlie right behind them. She greeted them and Briggs asked:

_ How're things, Grim?

_ Nothing new. He's still hitting his punch bag, and Mishka can hear him swearing.

_ I see, Briggs said grimly as they went to the kitchen.

When Grim saw the ex-Fourth Echelon team gathered in her kitchen it warmed her heart, but it also hurt. They would never be the Fourth Echelon team anymore, only people with close links, a real family. But no more missions at the other end of the world for them, no more work together. At that instant, realization dawned hard on her and she stifled a sob. She understood Sam's distress, but she couldn't let him, and herself, sink low. They had a family, much more than simple colleagues. They would be all right. And she was pregnant, she and Sam would soon have a baby.

Kestrel leaned on his cane and the table to rise and said:

_ Shall we?

_ You know the way, she told him.

She followed him, Briggs and Charlie in the corridor towards Sam's office, Molly and Elena staying behind and looking after Aliosha. Briggs reached the door first and knocked, saying:

_ Hi, Sam! The team is here! Are you ready to go?

_ Screw it! Sam yelled in fury. Not again! I won't go, and don't even think about breaking the door, this time! I have my Five-seveN here!

_ Sam, Kestrel said calmly, I do hope you won't fire on your team. But we need you to open that door and get ready. We need our commander.

_ Bullshit! I'm not going anywhere! McMurdoch can shove these medals up his ass! He dissolved Fourth Echelon! It's all his bloody fault if we're all retired! Leave me alone!

_ No, Kestrel said with a harder tone. Snap out of it, Sam! You'll come with us and lead us. Even if Fourth Echelon has been dissolved, we'll always be Fourth Echelon's team. And you'll always be our commander. Now, I give you ten seconds to open that door. A stiff leg and a cane won't prevent me from crashing it open, you know it.

Silence answered him but the ops, unfazed, started to count. At five a gunshot suddenly echoed through the door and Grim, starting to tremble, heard Sam yelling, beside himself with fury:

_ I'm serious, Mishka! Leave me alone!

_ Sam, Briggs said in a soothing voice. Calm down! Just open that door, we want to see you and talk, that's all.

_ No! Go fuck off!

But Kestrel resumed his counting and at ten, as the door was still closed, he gestured at the team to go back to the kitchen to take cover. Grim hid herself behind the doorframe but still watched as Kestrel took three steps back and ran to the door, shoulder first. The door crashed open and a millisecond later a second shot was fired. She screamed in terror as Kestrel took two steps back, dropping his cane and leaning against the wall, a hand on his upper left arm. She rushed forward as Kestrel slumped onto the floor, leaving a small red streak on the wall behind him, and Sam screamed:

_ Mishka! Sonny!

As she reached Kestrel, she saw that the ops was wounded but not too badly, his arm was only grazed. She saw Briggs running to Sam, taking the pistol out of his boss' hand, then the two of them ran to Kestrel. Sam hastily knelt in front of his ops and asked him, sobbing:

_ Mishka, what have I done? Are you okay, sonny?

_ I'm okay, Daddy, Kestrel said with a small smile as Elena ran to him, bending over his wound. It's nothing, really. I just lost my balance, don't worry.

_ Mishka, show me your arm, Elena ordered him with a trembling voice. Grim, I need gauze and disinfectant, and maybe needle and thread.

Grim left immediately, fetching the things, and came back a minute later. All the people had moved to the kitchen and she was reassured to see Kestrel and Sam, face to face, embracing each other. Sam was still sobbing on his ops' shoulder but Kestrel was murmuring things in his ear, making him nod.

Then they pulled away and Elena made her fiancé sit at the table and treated his wound. Sam, looking lost, was soon in Briggs' strong embrace, then he and Charlie steered Sam towards their bedroom. Grim followed them with her eyes then asked:

_ Where are Aliosha and Molly?

_ Outside, Elena answered, sewing back Kestrel's wound with the thread and the needle. They exited the house just before gunshots, I hope they haven't heard them.

_ We have soundproof walls, Grim said, slowly regaining composure and feeling her heartbeat decreasing to a normal rhythm. Do you need something else?

_ No, it is okay, thanks.

_ Could I have another coffee, please? Kestrel asked her calmly, as if nothing happened.

_ Sure.

She poured him another one and he sipped it, looking relaxed enough, and she couldn't help herself. She asked him in bewilderment:

_ How can you keep your cool like that, Mishka? Sam has just shot you! He could've killed you!

_ No, Grim, he shook his head. You know Sam is an outstanding sharpshooter. In fact, his bullet would've passed two inches from me if I hadn't stumbled on the threshold, thanks to my wonderful leg. He wasn't aiming at me and never would've killed me. It was just an accident. I have no reason to be angry at him.

_ Still, he could've done much harm! she said, feeling tears of worry and anger welling up in her eyes. What was he thinking?

_ Grim, he said calmly, staring at her with his warm brown eyes. You have nothing to worry about. Sam never would've harmed us, you know it. But I think he's really depressed.

_ That is sure, Elena said, straightening up. It's okay, любимый _(darling)_. Your wound is not too deep. And you heal fast, so tomorrow it will be okay.

_ Thanks a lot, my love, he said, kissing her. Are you okay?

_ Yes, she nodded earnestly. For a second I am very worried, but now I'm okay.

They kissed and hugged in front of Grim's moved stare, then Kestrel gently pulled away and said:

_ I'll go find Sam.

But two seconds later Sam entered the kitchen, showered and dressed in his old Fourth Echelon uniform, and only then did Grim notice that all men were wearing it. She sighed and looked at her clothes. She would have to change into her uniform too. And as if on cue, Briggs told her with a grin:

_ Now we're waiting for you, Grim! Where is your uniform?

_ Why wear it? she replied with a hint of annoyance, having spent three days thinking about the clothes she would have to wear for an appointment with the President of the USA.

_ To annoy McMurdoch, Charlie said seriously. Make him realize what mistake he has made with our dissolution. I hope one day he'll kick himself with regret.

She nodded, looking intently at Sam. He was less pale and looked a little better, but she could see in his green eyes his intense disarray. She walked right in front of him and hugged him. He kissed her, but although she felt his love for her she also felt he wasn't feeling good at all. Kestrel is right, she thought, he's utterly depressed. She whispered only for him to hear:

_ Be strong, honey. We'll be okay, and we'll soon be loving parents. Our baby needs you.

_ I know, my love, he whispered back, eyes bright. But it's so hard!

_ I know, she said, hugging him tighter. You need time, Sam. But don't worry, you'll soon feel better.

_ I hope so. And I need you so much!

_ I'm here for you, my love.

They kissed and cuddled, then she regretfully pulled away. As she left the room towards her bedroom she heard Kestrel asking:

_ Lena, do you have some thread left for the hole in my pullover?

She quickly changed into her uniform, her mind swirling with confusing thoughts, then came back to the kitchen. Sam was drinking a coffee and had a small smile on his face while listening to one of Charlie's countless jokes. Elena was sewing Kestrel's pullover and said:

_ Done, Mishka! Luckily your pullover is dark, the blood stain will not be seen.

_ Thank you very much, любимая _(my love)_ , he said, calmly putting it back.

_ Again I'm sorry, sonny, Sam said, eyes still bright. I don't know what happened to me.

_ Don't beat yourself up, Daddy, Kestrel told him kindly. Tomorrow it won't be more than a small scar, you know I heal fast.

_ Yes, but still...

_ Sam, Briggs said seriously, it's okay. You know Mishka is very unforgiving, so if you're still up on your feet and not lying in a pool of blood, then it means he isn't harbouring any grudge. Just relax!

Sam had a half-smile, then said:

_ Okay, so we'll go now. Let's get this done.

_ The faster the better, Charlie said. I want to have lunch with Andrea.

_ She isn't coming? Briggs asked him, frowning, as the team exited the house.

_ No, she's working today, and two people in her department are in sick leave.

_ Pity, Briggs shook his head.

_ I don't really care, the tech shrugged. These medals don't mean much to me. I prefer having her with me tomorrow at Mishka's.

_ Right you are, Kestrel grinned. Lena and I will cook this afternoon for tomorrow's housewarming party, and you won't be disappointed.

_ Splendid! Briggs grinned broadly as Molly and Aliosha joined them and Grim locked the front door.

She climbed behind the wheel of their van, Sam still using a cane too for his hurting knee, and she followed the cars of the team towards Washington. During the first minutes she stayed silent, waiting for Sam to speak first, and as planned he cleared his throat and said:

_ I'm so sorry, my love. I feel so bad about what I did.

_ It wasn't you, Sam, she told him soothingly, putting a hand on his thigh. You weren't quite yourself, I just know it. And you know you would never have harmed anybody of the team, so stop worrying about it. It's over.

_ If I had killed Mishka, he said with a trembling voice, I never would've forgiven myself. He's like a son to me! And I shot him!

_ Sam, she told him reassuringly, stroking his thigh as the Splinter Cell shed some tears. It was an accident, Mishka himself told so. So don't worry about it, it's in the past. Concentrate on the future. Do you remember our plans? The baby? Our wedding?

_ Yes, he nodded, wiping his cheeks. I haven't forgotten, my love. But it seems so far away from us!

_ It isn't, she said, heart squeezing in dismay. It's just that you only see your problems for the moment, Sam. I know it's hard, but you have to move on, honey.

_ I'll try, he nodded, taking her hand and gently squeezing it.

Soon she parked in the private and secure paking lot of the White House and followed an official agent with the team to a small reception room. And at 11.08 am Bart McMurdoch, escorted by a handful of senators and high-ranked officers went in. He greeted them seriously:

_ Welcome, Fourth Echelon! I wanted to express the nation's gratitude for your dedication and hard work during all these years at the service of the United States of America. And even if your unit is no more, you've done great service to our country. So to recognize officially your outstanding achievement in securing the US and its nationals, I award you today the medals you've earned since a long time ago.

He approached Sam, the commander, and gave him the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Presidential Citizen Medal, the Congressional Gold Medal, the Public Safety Officer Medal of Valor, and the President's Award for Distinguished Federal Civilian Service. Then he awarded Kestrel, Briggs and Charlie the same medals, except the Award for Distinguished Federal Civilian Service. Then it was her turn, and when he had finished pinning the four medals on her pullover he shook hands with her, smiling. She smiled faintly and he said, taking a step back as the people around them applauded loudly:

_ Thank you, Fourth Echelon. You were a civilian unit, so I can't award you some military medals you would've earned more than some people, but know that if I had my word you would've received a Purple Heart and a Silver Star at the very least.

Sam only nodded, jaws clenched, and maybe McMurdoch sensed the team's growing animosity and resentment, because he said:

_ I'm sorry to have to leave, I have an appointment in five minutes. Thank you all again, and I wish you well for the future.

He hastily left, escorted by the officials, and soon only the team, Elena, Aliosha and Molly were still in the room with two agents waiting for them. Grim watched Sam shooting a furious look at his five medals and said calmly:

_ Well, this is done. Where will we put them, honey? In your office?

_ No, he shook his head, seething with rage and removing the medals, handing them to her. Hide them somewhere, my love, because if I keep them they'll go straight down the nearest sewer.

_ Daddy! Aliosha shouted happily, running into Kestrel's arms. You have medals!

_ Yes, ребёнок _(child)_ , the ops smiled, kissing him. Do you like them?

_ Yes! They're beautiful!

Grim smiled and noticed that even Sam smiled faintly, softened. Elena and Molly kissed their boyfriends and she went next to Sam. He kissed her and murmured:

_ Let's go home, my love. I need to get out of here fast or I'll go berserk.

_ Okay, honey, she nodded, a twinge of worry in her chest. We'll leave now.

They said goodbye to the team, and she saw that Sam took more time with Kestrel, probably apologizing again. But the ops smiled at her beloved and muttered something to him, and Sam chuckled weakly. Then they left at Sam's slow pace, and soon were aboard the van. She drove them back to their house in the countryside around Baltimore, only stopping to have some food at a drive-through, and they finally arrived.

Sam went straight to the kitchen and rummaged in the cupboards, then went to the corridor and set to work. Grim saw him cleaning and scrubbing the wall where his bullet had splattered the paint with Kestrel's blood, then he took the shell out of the wall and went to fetch some paste to fill the hole. And only after that did he go to sit in the kitchen, sighing deeply, and asked her:

_ What about this vacation, then?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** **A little explanation for this chapter. The events and people I'm referring to are the heart of the plot of my second fanfic, Kestrel Storm. Please enjoy and review!**

Chapter 2

Kestrel awoke with a very unpleasant sensation, a creepy feeling sending shivers up and down his spine. He knew it well and didn't appreciate it at all. Trouble wasn't far, and he had a strong suspicion that it was closely linked to Sam's state of mind.

He sat up in his bed, rubbed his face then shot a look around him. The bedroom, bathed in moonlight filtering through the curtains, was almost like it was meant to be, only a few trinkets of Elena's were still in a cardboard box next to the bathroom's door. He then looked at his fiancée next to him in the bed, sleeping soundly. Her black hair was flowing on her pillow and she had gracious and relaxed features. He felt love and happiness rushing in his chest while surveying her with a softened stare, and lightly caressed her face.

Then he lay back on the bed, but sleep had fled from him. He shot a look at his alarm clock and groaned in disgust when he read 3.47 am. So he sighed, got up and went to have a shower. The hot water helped him chasing his bad feeling away but didn't do anything about his sleep. But he was satisfied to notice that the wound on his arm was already a thin scar.

When he came back into the bedroom, fully clothed, Elena was sitting on the bed, in a daze. She asked him with a sleepy voice:

_ Mishka? Why aren't you in bed?

_ I can't sleep, my love, he answered calmly, sitting right next to her and kissing her. Don't worry. You can go back to sleep.

She didn't wait to be told twice and fell back on her pillow, and her deep breathing told him she was already in Dreamland again. He smiled while stroking her back and kissed her a last time, then grabbed his cane and made his way to the kitchen.

The worktables were overflowing with food for lunch but he managed to grab some ingredients to cook some syrnikiy, and soon a delicious aroma wafted up in the air. Then he put the breakfast in a large dish and covered the syrnikiy with a towel, and went to sit on the sofa with a small sigh. His leg wasn't aching too much but he needed to sit down for a while.

So he switched on the television and lazily zapped until finding a soccer match replay. He watched it with detached emotion, as the match wasn't one of his favourite team, and soon he dozed off. He dreamed he was locked up in a white padded cell, wearing a straightjacket, and his old friend Igor Kossiak, Voron's commander, was telling him through a hatch in the thick door:

_ You'll be better here, Mishka. It's for your family's safety and yours.

He wanted to reply that he was okay and ask why he was locked up, but he couldn't utter a single word, his voice failed him. Then Sam came next to Kossiak and said darkly:

_ You'll stay here until we think you're healed, sonny. Behave and stay safe.

The hatch closed, and he wanted to scream but no sound came out of his mouth. Then he awoke abruptly, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, Aliosha and Elena in front of him and staring at him in concern. The little boy asked him hesitantly:

_ You were dreaming, Daddy?

_ Yes, ребёнок _(child)_ , he said after a few seconds, trying to regain composure and letting his heartbeat calm down a little. A bad dream.

He sat up, rubbing his face, and Elena went next to him, taking his hand.

_ Are you okay, my love? she asked, still looking concerned.

_ Yes, любимая _(my love)_ , he said more calmly. I didn't expect to fall asleep here, and that nightmare was quite disturbing.

_ You want to tell me?

He shook his head, only wanting to forget the dream as fast as possible, and simply said:

_ It doesn't make sense, really. I don't want to dwell on it too much.

_ Okay, she nodded with a faint smile.

_ Daddy? Aliosha asked hopefully. Have you cooked breakfast?

_ Aliosha! Elena scowled at him.

_ But I smell good things, Mama!

_ You're right, ребёнок, Kestrel smiled. Daddy has made syrnikiy for breakfast.

_ Hurray!

The small boy started to bounce up and down, making his parents laugh, and Kestrel rose to his feet. He led his family to the kitchen, and soon the large dish was empty of its syrnikiy. As he drained his second mug of coffee, his smartphone rang. He took it out and frowned when seeing the ID of the caller. Elena asked him:

_ Who is it?

_ An old Russian friend, he answered calmly but uneasiness twisting his guts. I have to answer.

He picked up the call, bracing himself.

_ Yes?

_ If you look for perfection, you'll never be content, Igor Kossiak said in Russian.

_ Tolstoi, my favourite author, Kestrel said with a sigh. I have a book written by him in my bookcase, you're lucky.

_ Hi, Mishka!

_ Hi, Igor! I didn't expect a call from you so soon after the last one. Is there a problem?

_ Maybe, Mishka. Are you sitting down?

_ I'm on a chair, old friend. Fire away.

_ Fedorova will be set free on Tuesday. She'll be put in a plane in Dulles in your early morning and shipped back to Moscow.

_ What? he roared angrily, making Aliosha and Elena jumping hard around him. I thought she had been sentenced to twenty years! It's been only five!

_ True, but apparently she struck a deal with the CIA, Kossiak explained dejectedly. It doesn't make me happy, Mishka. I assume she told the CIA a lot of things about Voron, and maybe some about you.

Kestrel rose, ignoring Elena's worried expression, grabbed his cane and limped to the bedroom that was to become his office. There he had installed some thick mats on the walls to punch them, and he knew that after Kossiak hung up he would let the steam off on them. He asked in fury:

_ Why haven't we been warned? How do you know?

_ One of my moles, but I can't tell you more about it, you know it. As for you, since Fourth Echelon has been dissolved my man told me the CIA didn't think it relevant to tell you.

_ Assholes! Kestrel raged, sweeping away some books from the desk and sending them flying across the desk. They're lucky we're retired! They would've learned about us in a nice way!

_ I don't doubt it. But I also have a big problem.

_ What will you do with her?

_ That's the problem, Kossiak said darkly. I don't know. I meet Valentina Ivanovna in half an hour to discuss the topic. The SVR doesn't want her back in Russia, and neither do I. She's much too dangerous.

_ What are you trying to tell me, Igor? I can't do anything here about her. And I certainly don't want to see her again, after all she did to me.

_ I understand, Kossiak said, sounding a little disappointed. Then the matter will be settled here.

_ I'm sorry, Igor. I'll tell my team, but I would appreciate it if you could keep me posted about her whereabouts. I don't want to have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.

_ It's almost certain you won't have to, Mishka. I'll keep you posted.

_ When does she take off from Dulles?

_ 6.25 am on Tuesday. She'll be escorted by two CIA agents.

_ Okay, Kestrel exhaled deeply. Thanks, old friend.

_ Don't mention it. And if I learn that she told the CIA bothersome things about you I'll phone you.

_ Thanks, Kestrel repeated, guts clenched in rage. Bye, Igor.

_ До свидания.

He hung up and put his smartphone on the desk and his cane against it, then started to hit the wall mats. So high was his anger and fury that he destroyed all of them in less than five minutes, then had to hit the thick stone walls. But he soon felt his hands bruised and aching, so he stopped just as Elena ran into the room, alerted by the racket. She asked him in alarm:

_ Mishka, what are you doing?

_ Trying to calm down, my love, he said, taking a deep breath and limping to the chair where he collapsed.

She shot a look at his hands then ran out, to be back a minute later with her medical case. She nursed his knuckles, bandaging them, allowing him to breathe deeper and more calmly. Then she asked hesitantly:

_ Bad news, I suppose?

_ Yes, любимая, he admitted with a sigh. Very bad news.

_ Can you tell me?

He locked eyes with her, seeing her worry and dismay. He knew she was concerned about him, but this matter would maybe become a huge problem soon, so he nodded.

_ I'll tell you, любимая. Where is Aliosha?

_ Drawing in his room, she said, grabbing the other chair in the corner of the room, dragging it towards him then sitting on it.

_ Good.

He took a deep breath, took her hand then dove on:

_ Five years ago, my girlfriend Alpha's body and coffin have been dug out from her grave. My former Russian agency, or at least some members of it, were behind it. And an agent called Fedorova orchestrated it.

He saw Elena's appalled and revolted expression and lightly squeezed her hand, kissing it, then went on:

_ Me and my team tracked them down, but when we reached the coffin this Fedorova bitch made it explode.

He didn't want to tell her the exact circumstances of the operation, and that he had been nearly killed on that occasion, so he left aside the major part of the story and simply said:

_ She did a lot of bad things after that before we could lay hands on her, but finally we succeeded. She was sentenced to twenty years in jail here in the US, but my friend has just told me that she would be released on Tuesday and sent back to Russia.

_ I see, she said, eyebrows furrowing in concern. So I assume you're quite worried about what she could do?

_ My friend is the commander of my former agency and will certainly solve the problem, he explained grimly. But she probably told the CIA a lot of things about Russian operations...

_ And about you, she added in worry.

He nodded, staring into her beautiful grey eyes. She gripped his hand tighter and said in a would-be reassuring voice:

_ But you're American since seven years ago, my love. Don't worry. And you've just been awarded some medals by the President. You have nothing to worry about.

He stayed silent, kissing her hand and staring at nothing in particular. Finally he confessed:

_ Do you remember me telling you about some experiments I endured years ago?

She nodded, looking very worried, and he went on:

_ I do hope she didn't tell the CIA about them. You probably noticed some of my unusual abilities.

_ Your fast healing, she acknowledged, your incredible hearing, your strength...

_ Yes. Nobody knows about them except you, me and my team, and some people in Russia, including this Fedorova bitch. But if the CIA learned about it...

His voice trailed off in disarray. He didn't want to become a living guinea pig and help some disastrous research and experiments on human beings. Opposite him Elena leaned forward and hugged him tightly, telling him firmly:

_ Nobody will harm you, my love. I'll protect you.

_ What can you do? he asked gently.

_ I'm a doctor, she said with fire in her eyes. Your doctor, my love. I can do a lot of things, believe me.

He smiled and kissed her, and they stayed hugging for a few more seconds, he feeling a little better. Then he reluctantly pulled away and said, checking his watch:

_ I have to take another shower, my love. Our guests will arrive in half an hour.

_ I'll have everything ready, любимый _(darling)_ , she told him with a last kiss while rising. Go have your shower.

She left and he rose, his mind swirling with thoughts. While he stepped into the shower stall again he told himself firmly:

_ In no way will you let that fucking bitch spoil your life and happiness, мой друг _(my friend)_. She won't do any more harm, Igor will make sure of that.

He hastily washed, then put on some clean clothes as he heard the first car parking in the alley, so he was ready to welcome Briggs, Molly and Rachel when they rang the doorbell. He masked his disarray as best he could, and fortunately Briggs didn't seem to notice anything odd. But Kestrel knew that it would be much more difficult with Sam.

And sure enough, as soon as the Splinter Cell, still looking guilty and depressed, laid eyes on him, he asked grimly:

_ What's the matter, sonny?

_ I have bad news, Sam, he said simply, greeting him and Grim. Let's talk about it when Charlie arrives.

Sam nodded, looking put out, and Grim pursed her lips in worry. Kestrel led them to the living room and offered them some drinks. Briggs had a bourbon and Molly and Elena an apple juice, and Sam chose a bourbon too. Grim went for a soda, like Kestrel, and they sipped their drinks in silence. Briggs frowned at his best friend and was about to ask something when the doorbell rang once more.

Kestrel welcomed Charlie and his girlfriend Andrea, served them a whisky with cola then resumed his seat as Elena passed huge dishes with appetizers. Then Grim said as Aliosha and Rachel ran around the table, picking some food and laughing their heads off:

_ It was to be a celebration, a housewarming party, but it seems your heart isn't in it, Mishka. What's happening?

He took a deep breath, shooting a look around him at his concerned team, and said grimly:

_ Igor phoned me an hour ago. He gave me bad news.

_ About Voron? Briggs asked, frowning.

_ No, not about Voron. About Fedorova.

_ What about that bitch? Charlie growled in anger.

_ She'll be set free this Tuesday and sent back to Russia. Her plane takes off at 6.25 am in Dulles. She struck a deal with the CIA.

A sound of broken china from Sam's side of the table didn't make him stir, he was expecting something like that. Sam roared in anger, jumped to his feet and exited the house, slamming the door behind him. Briggs put his face in his hands, Grim hastily gulped down her soda to regain composure and Charlie yelled "No!". The women around the table were quite lost and concerned, but of course they couldn't know what these news meant, except Elena.

Kestrel rose with difficulty, limped towards the front door, clapping Briggs and Charlie's shoulders on his way, then went out to find Sam. His boss was hobbling angrily around the stone walls of the house, fuming and swearing, and Kestrel caught up with him. The two of them faced each other, matched wooden canes at their side, and the ops waited patiently. Sam was obviously trying to calm down, but it was no good, and he suddenly snapped just as Grim, Briggs and Charlie were exiting the house too:

_ Goddamn CIA! Bastards! Screw them, all these motherfuckers! Why have they decided to strike a deal with her? What has she told them?

_ That I don't know, Kestrel said calmly as the team gathered once more in front of his house. Igor doesn't know either, and it worries him. She is a very valuable source of intel for the CIA. She was a high-ranked agent of Voron.

_ Why haven't they told us? Charlie asked in rage. We should've been warned!

_ Apparently the CIA didn't think relevant to tell us since Fourth Echelon has been dissolved.

_ I'll have a word with my friends, Briggs growled. This sure is a proper backstabbing!

_ What about you, Mishka? Grim asked in worry. Has she told them about you?

_ I don't know, he said darkly, but I'd bet she has.

_ So what do we do? Charlie asked, looking very sullen.

_ There's nothing to do, Kestrel answered him calmly. Igor told me he would meet Valentina Stepankova, you remember her? Director of the SVR. They will decide on Fedorova's fate, even if I would bet my life she won't live for more than a day as soon as she sets foot in Moscow. Such is the fate for Voron traitors.

The team stayed silent, not pointing out that it had been the fate awaiting him during several years as he was considered a traitor for Voron, but now he knew this threat had disappeared. He had made peace with his former agency, helping them out of tight spots, and in return they had made him disappear from their radar for good, erasing his past and allowing him to have a new life in America with Fourth Echelon. But after a minute Sam said:

_ I'll go to Dulles. I want to see her boarding that plane and make sure the agents escorting her are loyal men that won't let her escape.

_ Sam... Grim started.

_ No, my love, he cut her softly but firmly. I've made up my mind and won't change. Will you accompany me? he asked his two ops.

_ Sure, Briggs nodded immediately.

Kestrel took his time to answer. He didn't want to set eyes on Fedorova ever again, but on the other hand he knew how dangerous she was and wanted to be there to protect his former boss and teammate in case of need. So he said at last:

_ Okay, Sam. I don't like it, but I'll be there too.

Sam clapped his two ops on the shoulder, then said:

_ Let's hope Kossiak will deal with her in an appropriate way. You'll keep us posted, sonny, won't you?

_ I will, Sam, Kestrel acknowledged. Now, we're all here for a housewarming party. Let's celebrate. I don't want that fucking bitch spoiling my life anymore.

_ You're right, Mishka, Charlie approved, having been enough manipulated by the Russian woman. I'll have another whisky with cola.

_ And I've spotted some meatballs, Grim added with a hungry expression Kestrel had never seen on her usually calm face. I really want to sample those.

_ The meatballs are pelmeniy, he explained to her while leading the team inside. They're made with beef and lamb meat, but in Siberia you can find some with bear meat inside.

_ Weird, she said as the five of them took their place around the table again.

Elena, Molly and Andrea shot them a curious and worried look, but Briggs explained:

_ The matter is settled. Sam, Mishka and I will go to Dulles Tuesday morning and wish our dear friend farewell. And now we have some good news to toast.

He raised his glass and said solemnly:

_ To Mishka and Elena's awesome new house! And to the three coming babies!

Everybody cheered and toasted, even Sam, Kestrel noticed, who shot a loving look at Grim and discreetly put a hand on her belly, and he did the same with Elena. She beamed at him and they kissed, and he put his fears in the back of his mind. Nobody or nothing would spoil this day, he resolved firmly.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Shortly after the improvised meeting outside, Sarah and Ben arrived with the twins, James and Mary, and Briggs saw Kestrel welcoming them warmly. James was hugging him tightly and said:

_ I'm happy to see you, uncle Mishka!

_ So am I, племянник _(nephew)_. How are you?

_ I still have nightmares, the five-year-old boy told him sadly. I dream of falling rocks and screaming people.

_ It'll pass, Kestrel said calmly. Don't worry, племянник.

But Briggs saw the same haunted look in his best friend's eyes and knew the trauma of the suicide bombing in Washington would be long to overcome for both of them. Kestrel led the family to the table but the twins soon ran away to play with Rachel and Aliosha, and everybody greeted the newcomers warmly.

The three pregnant women ate like ogres, and Briggs, highly amused like the rest of the guests, watched Molly, Elena and Grim wolfing down the Russian food as if they hadn't eaten for a week. They even ate more than Kestrel, which was quite an achievement. But he noticed that they were helped by the ops himself who wasn't eating as much as he was used to. And Sam was only toying with his food, not having much appetite, it seemed.

Briggs thoroughly enjoyed the meal, like Charlie, Andrea, Sarah and Ben, and soft conversations were rising here and there. But it was mostly the women who talked, and predictably the hot topic was their pregnancies. So Briggs learned that Grim had strong cravings of meat, that Molly couldn't stand being in the same room than a mushroom and that Elena was only getting out of bed when she smelled some Russian breakfast cooked by Kestrel. And that Sarah had almost killed a street vendor once when he had told her he had no sausages left for a hotdog.

The four children appeared around the table from time to time, digging up in the dishes then going back to their playing, and Briggs rejoiced at seeing them getting along so well. But soon Sam asked the men of his team, seated next to him:

_ So you all start tomorrow in Vic's firm, then?

_ Yes, Briggs nodded calmly, noticing a spark of sadness in his boss' eyes. I hope it'll go well.

_ Me too, Charlie said. I don't know what it'll be like teaching men older than me. I don't feel quite comfortable with all this.

_ Don't think about it, Sam told him calmly. What is important isn't their age, but what you can teach them. And even if you're younger, they'll be grateful to learn useful things from you.

Charlie nodded, looking impressed, and Briggs' heart squeezed in dismay. Sam was the best teacher he had ever had, and if one single team member should work as a teacher in Victor Coste's private security firm it was him. He noticed that Kestrel kept silent and shot a sideways glance at the Splinter Cell, but Sam was too deep in his own thoughts to notice it. Briggs asked him:

_ What about you, Sam? Have you got something planned?

_ Grim and I are preparing a tour of Europe, he said with a hint of pride in his voice, reassuring the ops. And of course we'll have our wedding to take care of. I assume we'll be quite busy for the next months.

_ That's good, he nodded. So it'll be a great honeymoon, then.

_ Actually we'll travel before the wedding, Sam explained with a smile, eyes twinkling a little. After it would be riskier, and no airline company would accept Grim aboard their planes after six months of pregnancy.

_ True, Ben acknowledged, speaking for the first time after having wolfed down a large plate of pierojkis. We had the same problem with Sarah, so we had to hurry to organize our honeymoon in Mauritius.

_ And speaking of Sarah and you... Sam started, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

_ No, Dad! Sarah chimed in, obviously evasdropping on the conversation. Two children are enough, and even more when they're twins. Just wait! Maybe Grim and you will have twins too?

_ I hope not, he said with a shudder, making everybody around him laughing softly.

Briggs grinned, feeling reassured. Sam looked better, even if the line of worry was still there on his forehead, but at least he didn't seem completely depressed. However he noticed that Kestrel was still eyeing their boss with a concerned stare, and in spite of the good moment he felt uneasy.

Soon Elena, helped by Sarah and Molly, brought in some delicious-looking puddings and delicacies, and Briggs dug in them enthusiastically. He noticed that Elena was eating some oladi as if she hadn't eaten in a month, and Molly soon emptied a dish filled with pieces of vatrushka. Grim wolfed down the plate of churchkhelas, under the highly amused stare and smirk of Sam, and Kestrel served some champagne and alcohol-free sparkling wine. Everybody toasted the good news once more, but Briggs could tell the spirits weren't very high.

Then Kestrel and Elena opened the gifts they've been given, and Briggs saw that his best friend really liked the presents. The couple received some high-quality cutlery from him and Molly, a gift certificate in a furniture store from Sam, Grim, Sarah and Ben, and some nice aprons and towels from Charlie and Andrea. They warmly thanked their guests, and as Kestrel embraced him Briggs told him with a grin:

_ Hope you'll use the knives very soon for a barbecue, mate!

_ You bet, Kestrel winked, a wide smile on his face. How about we all have one in two weeks, if the weather is good?

_ Great idea, Mishka! Molly rejoiced. I love barbecue!

_ Well, in two weeks Grim and I should be in England, Sam said regretfully. Another time for us, sonny.

_ Andrea and I will be at her parents' in two weeks, Charlie said seriously, holding hands with his girlfriend.

_ And we go to Disneyworld in two weeks, Ben said apologetically. It was booked since a long time ago.

_ That's good, Briggs rubbed his hands, grinning. More meat for Mishka and me!

_ And me! Molly added seriously.

_ Of course, Molly dear, he acknowledged, kissing her.

_ That's settled, then, Kestrel smiled.

After Elena poured some coffee and tea, Sam soon stood up and said rather sullenly:

_ It's been great, but now we must leave.

Grim pursed her lips in worry but rose too, and Briggs and Kestrel escorted them to the front door. Briggs said:

_ Let's meet at 5 am at my place on Tuesday, Sam. I'll drive us to the airport.

_ Okay, sonny, the Splinter Cell nodded darkly, shaking hands with him. Good luck for tomorrow, you two.

_ Thanks, Sam, Kestrel said calmly. And thanks for coming today.

_ It was a pleasure, sonny.

As Sam was about to exit the house, Kestrel grabbed his arm and told him in an undertone:

_ Don't let bad thoughts bring you down, Daddy.

Briggs saw his old boss' jaws tightening and his fists clenching, and Sam spat:

_ I'm fine!

_ No, you're not, Kestrel said even more calmly, locking eyes with the man he regarded as a father. Don't you think we can't see that clearly enough. And if I tell you that, it's because I know exactly what it's like to be trapped in that sort of downward spiral. And...

_ Mishka, for heaven's sake! Sam snapped loudly in anger, making everybody turn towards them. I told you I'm fine!

_ And I don't believe you, Daddy, Kestrel stated seriously, making Briggs shudder.

Silence fell in the house. Briggs watched apprehensively the two of them facing each other, Sam seething with rage and Kestrel only looking concerned, and finally the Splinter Cell cracked first, roaring:

_ So you think you know what I'm feeling right now? Then you're wrong, Mishka! You can't know a single thing about what I'm feeling and thinking, so leave me alone!

_ No? Kestrel arched an eyebrow, and Briggs immediately saw that Sam had made a big mistake. Then let me remind you something, Sam.

The ops paused, planting his feet and his cane firmly on the floor, and said with a voice filled with constricted fury:

_ Five years ago, I was in the same state than you. I had lost everything, I didn't see what would become of my miserable life. I was lonely, I was desperate, I was hurt and in pain. Bad memories were consuming me, do you remember?

He eyed his boss with a harsh stare, and Sam averted his gaze at last, looking shameful. He murmured guiltily:

_ I remember.

_ No, you don't! Kestrel suddenly erupted, making Briggs and Grim flinching around him and Elena running next to him in worry. If you remembered it you wouldn't act like you do now! Because you know what lies ahead of this dangerous path, do I have to remind you that? Tell me, Sam: do I have to remind you that?

_ No, Sam muttered in shame, hanging his head, and Briggs saw his bright eyes.

_ I will nevertheless, Kestrel went on ruthlessly, a metallic edge in his voice. I will, because if I have realized something since then it's that I was stupid to let my problems and pain overcome me like you let yours do to you right now! Do you remember what I almost did in Boise, Sam?

This time, nobody answered him. Briggs could see the Splinter Cell's silent tears on his cheeks, and Kestrel shaking with fury and concern, visibly aching to recount that bad memory but knowing that it would help his boss. And the ops confessed to the listening and appalled people in the living room:

_ I drank two bottles of vodka, wanting to drown the sorrows, then I took my pistol and pointed it against my temple! I had started to pull the trigger when Grim stopped me with Alpha's recording, Sam! I would've done it! I would've killed myself! For stupid and useless reasons! So don't you dare think I can't know what you're feeling right now! I had no one at that time! But you, you have a family, Sam! You have a wonderful girlfriend who loves you and will soon become your wife, and you'll have a baby together in six months! You have a daughter and a son-in-law, and two lovely grandchildren! So stop being stupid and stubborn, lingering in your misery! Fourth Echelon is dissolved, granted, but it's up to you to make your own path from now on! And like you told me not two weeks ago, work isn't everything!

Kestrel stopped at last, trembling from head to foot, then he opened the door and went out, slamming the door behind him. Briggs, trembling too, looked at the people around him. Elena, teary-eyed and features tightened in worry, went out too and ran after her fiancé. Grim was pursing her lips to force down her emotion, looking intently at Sam, a hand on his arm. And the Splinter Cell buried his face in his hands, sobbing quietly.

So Briggs steered him back to the living room, making him sitting on the sofa, and he and Grim sat on either side of him. The ops noticed that the children had come to the room, and James asked in worry:

_ What happened? Why did uncle Mishka shout like that?

_ Don't worry, Grim told the worried children. It's okay. Uncle Mishka is outside, he'll come back in a few minutes. Do you want to eat dessert?

Distracted, the children ran happily to the table, and Andrea, Molly and Sarah gave them what they wanted. Briggs focused back on Sam who was clearly breaking down completely. Apparently Kestrel's outburst had made him crack, and Briggs only hoped that it would ease the strain on his old boss' shoulders.

After two minutes Sam calmed himself, taking deep breaths, and wiped his tears away. Grim was caressing his back, still looking worried, but soon he shot her a loving look, features less tightened already. She smiled weakly at him and asked:

_ Feel better, honey?

_ Yes, my love, he told her with a hoarse voice. I'm sorry. Mishka is right. I know I'm letting myself go right now, and I'm wrong. I'm so ashamed of myself!

_ Don't be, Sam, Briggs told him soothingly, seeing the eyes of his boss becoming bright again. You have every right to snap from time to time. You're not a brainless machine. Just don't forget that we are all here for you. We won't be able to chase your bad thoughts away, but we're here to support you doing so.

_ Thanks, sonny, Sam nodded dimly, looking a little better. I'll try and face all that's happening to me.

_ Good, Briggs smiled, rising, as Grim kissed her lover. I'll go and find Mishka, then.

_ Please tell him I'm sorry, Sam whispered in shame.

_ Will do.

As Briggs exited the house he saw Sarah going next to her father and comforting him, then he shot a look outside. Elena was standing alone in the alley, looking towards the street, and his guts twisted in uneasiness. He walked next to her and asked gently:

_ Elena? Where is Mishka?

_ He is gone, she answered with a small voice, hugging her arms in anguish. He told he need to take a breath. He come back in an hour.

_ I see, Briggs only said, appalled. Come inside, then, the air is chill.

He escorted her into the house, and when Sam noticed that Kestrel wasn't with them he put his face in his hands again. Ben, Molly, Andrea and Elena cleared the table, filled the dishwasher and tidied up the kitchen, then Charlie and Andrea left, thanking profusely Elena and Charlie embracing Sam. Then Sarah and Ben called the twins, and after kissing goodbye they left too. James and Mary were most deceived that their uncle hadn't come back yet, but Elena promised them she would invite them very soon so they would be able to enjoy their uncle's presence.

Briggs exchanged a look with Molly and saw that she was thinking the same way he did: Sam, Grim, Elena and Kestrel needed comfort. So they all sat in the lounge, Elena and Molly serving some more coffee and tea, and he handed a mug to Sam. His boss took it with a grateful smile and sipped it in silence, eyes unfocused, lost in his thoughts. Then the three women got up and went to the kitchen, Grim kissing Sam before leaving, and soon Briggs heard them talking through the closed door.

He and Sam stayed silent, only waiting, and Briggs could see that the old Splinter Cell wasn't coping well with the pressure, but he visibly was making huge efforts to shake himself out of his depressed state. Finally, after a good half-hour, Sam said at last:

_ It won't be easy for me, sonny. I'm so useless now! I'm retired, and my osteoarthritis will prevent me from doing anything worth it.

_ You're not useless, Sam, Briggs told him earnestly. The only problem is that you haven't had the time to prepare your retirement. When you think calmly about it, you'll see that you can do some things. And maybe you'll be able to find a job. It's not too late for you.

_ Maybe not, Sam said thoughtfully. I'd like to work again, at least to give me time to think about retirement.

_ Then find something, Briggs suggested. Why don't you ask Victor Coste? Maybe he has something for you?

_ Maybe, Sam repeated dimly.

They fell silent again, and Briggs watched Rachel and Aliosha running into the room, asking for a snack. They went to the kitchen and soon emerged, oladi in hand and eating them with great appetite.

Then he dozed off, Sam having fallen asleep on the sofa, and was shaken out of his slumber by Molly, Grim and Elena coming back to the living room next to them. Elena asked them:

_ No news from Mishka?

_ None, Briggs said, silently asking Sam who shook his head. Why? How much time... ?

_ Two hours, Elena answered, looking worried. He told one hour, and he hold promise. I am very worried.

_ Have you tried to phone him? Sam asked in concern.

_ Yes, no answer, she said, pursing her lips.

At that instant the doorbell rang. Elena ran to the door and opened it, and Briggs saw her stifle a scream. On the threshold two joggers, one holding a visibly unconscious Kestrel on his shoulders, and the other one holding his cane. The latter asked:

_ Mrs Loskov? We've found your husband two kilometers from here. May we enter?

_ Yes, of course!

Briggs rushed forward as Elena stepped aside to let the two buff guys inside, and the ops helped them bringing Kestrel onto the sofa from where Sam had hastily risen, looking worried out of his mind. The first guy explained to Elena who crouched next to her fiancé, checking on him:

_ My partner and I were running when we saw your husband collapsing on the ground. His leg hurt him, from what we saw. We ran to him and he had barely the time to tell us his name and address before blacking out. So we brought him here when we saw his life wasn't in danger.

_ Thanks a lot, Briggs told them as Elena was clearly too distressed to talk. Would you like something to drink?

_ No thanks, the second one politely declined. We have work in an hour and have to go home first.

_ Thank you for bring him, Elena said, straightening and looking a little better. I hope you come soon to have drink.

_ We live in the street, only a few hundred meters away, the first guy told her with a smile. We'll drop by soon, Mrs Loskov, when your husband is better.

She escorted them to the door, thanking them again, and Briggs focused back on his best friend. Kestrel was very pale and had tightened features, but otherwise he looked okay. Elena ran back to him and asked Briggs:

_ Can you help put out his trousers?

_ Sure, he acknowledged.

Together they removed Kestrel's jeans and Elena bent over his thigh. Molly went next to him and squeezed his hand. He kissed her softly then concentrated back on his best friend. Opposite him Sam and Grim, holding hands, were watching the ops with great concern, and Briggs noticed that Sam was shaking slightly. Finally Elena rose and told the waiting people:

_ He is okay. His leg was very stiff, but it is good now. I think he walk too much.

_ Good, Briggs sighed in relief, kissing Molly and seeing everybody around them looking far better. Do you want us to stay a little more, Elena? Do you need us?

_ No thanks, she said with a reassured smile. I wait he wake up, it is good. Maybe he will sleep a long time.

_ Okay, he nodded.

He and Molly kissed her goodbye and called Rachel. The children, worried at first at the sight of Kestrel on the sofa, were soon reassured by their mothers, and Briggs led his family outside, immediately followed by Sam and Grim. As Molly put Rachel in the back of their van, Briggs went to Grim's car and asked Sam on the passenger seat:

_ All right, Sam?

_ I really don't know what to answer you, sonny, the Splinter Cell told him with a gloomy voice. I just hope Mishka will be all right.

_ He will, don't worry, Briggs assured him with confidence. You know he's tough.

_ But will he be able to work tomorrow?

_ That I don't know. I'll phone Elena later in the evening.

A smartphone beeped in Sam's pocket and he took it out, shooting a glance at the screen.

_ A message from Vic. He needs to talk to me, asks if he can drop by tonight.

Sam shot a questioning look at Grim who immediately nodded and told him:

_ Yes, invite him for dinner.

_ I will, Sam said, but the timing is quite strange, don't you think?

_ Maybe it's just a coincidence, Sam, Briggs told him soothingly. Don't worry. Enjoy.

_ Okay, sonny. See you on Tuesday, then.

_ Bye, Sam. Bye, Grim.

_ Have a nice evening, Briggs, Grim told him with a smile.

The ops nodded and went to his car, climbing behind the wheel. He kissed Molly's hand, disarray tightening his guts, and she told him:

_ Don't worry, Isaac. He'll be all right. And Sam too.

_ I hope so, Molly dear, he only said, gulping down his worry. I hope so.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sam sent back a message to his best friend Victor Coste, inviting him for dinner, then reclined back on his seat, watching Grim driving. His head was swimming in turmoil and worry, and he felt more depressed than he had ever felt in his whole life. But he knew Kestrel had been right to lecture him. He couldn't sink into a nervous breakdown because of Fourth Echelon's dissolution. He had to react, even if he knew it would be long and hard.

He focused on the road, thoughts wandering, and Grim's voice shook him out of his reverie:

_ Sam, are you with me?

_ Yes, my love, he turned towards her, taking her outstretched hand and kissing it. I'm right here with you.

_ Are you okay?

_ What do you think?

_ I'd say somewhere between yes and no, she said kindly.

_ And you would be right, my love.

_ What can I do, Sam?

_ Nothing much, he said, thinking about it. Except being there, next to me. Briggs is right, I have to find my path, alone. Nobody can do it for me.

_ If only I could, she sighed.

_ But you can't, he told her, kissing her hand again. Don't worry, I'll succeed. Just trust me.

_ I do, Sam.

Soon she parked in front of their house and he extracted himself from the van, leaning heavily on his cane. His knee was hurting him again, but it was a dull pain, easily bearable. He went to the kitchen, following Grim, and they set to work. While she made small sandwiches he cooked a roast beef with potatoes and peas, and an hour later the doorbell rang.

He went to open and greeted his best friend:

_ Hi, Vic! Good to see you!

_ Hi, Sam! Thanks for inviting me, I couldn't wait to talk to you.

_ I hope it's not bothersome, he said while leading his friend to the living room, where Grim was setting the table.

_ Not really. Hello, Grim!

_ Hello, Vic! she smiled, kissing him on both cheeks. Please sit down. Would you like a whisky?

_ Only if Sam has one with me.

_ Okay, ol' fellow, Sam said with a smile.

Grim poured them a whisky and helped herself with orange juice, then sat down next to them. Sam saw Coste was looking a little uneasy and embarrassed, so he asked him:

_ Everything all right, Vic?

_ I have a problem, Coste said with a deep breath, locking eyes with him.

_ What problem? Sam asked, eyebrows furrowing. Can I help you?

_ As a matter of fact, Sam, you can. Only you can help me.

The Splinter Cell, stunned, looked at his serious friend with bewilderment. But Grim had a gleam in her eyes he knew only too well, and he saw she had guessed what it was all about. So he said:

_ Tell me, Vic.

_ Mishka phoned me three hours ago, Coste said grimly.

Sam reclined back on his armchair, sipping his whisky. He should've known his ops wouldn't stay idle while away. He took a deep breath and asked calmly:

_ What did he tell you?

_ He told me he wouldn't be able to teach close combat, Coste answered with concern. Said his leg was too stiff and painful, and that it would be, and these are his words, "a disaster". So he asked me to cut his salary in half and offer that post to you.

Sam, moved and shocked at the same time, could only stare at the serious face of his old friend. He could just tell that Victor Coste wasn't pulling his leg or doing him any favor, this was all Kestrel's idea. So he took a deep breath to regain composure and asked:

_ And what do you think about it?

_ If I'm here, Sam, then I've already thought about it a great deal. I really need my men to be trained in close combat, and I can't ask Briggs to do it. His post is quite complete already. And maybe it's better that way. Mishka will concentrate on weapons handling and shooting, and God knows my agents all need training with these! But I need a teacher in close combat, and no one would be better than you, Sam. You're an expert at Krav Maga and have a forty years' career behind you.

_ But you know I have osteoarthritis, Sam objected. The doctors all told me I have to stop all physical efforts.

_ And would've you really obeyed? Coste asked, skepticism etched on his face.

_ I...

Silence fell, and Sam realized Vic was right. It just wasn't him, staying home and sitting on a sofa. He would go berserk sooner or later. And quite unexpectedly, Grim backed Coste up:

_ He's right, Sam. You can't stay here doing nothing, it's just not you. And you told me Elena said you could do slow Krav Maga, slow movements. For a teacher, it's good to have slow movements.

She smiled at him, eyes twinkling, and he felt a huge relief expanding in his chest. If Grim was supporting him, then he could do it. So he grinned and said:

_ Okay, Vic. You've got your man. When do I start?

_ Thank God! Coste sighed with a grin. Can you be there tomorrow morning? 8.30 am?

_ I can, Sam nodded. But Grim and I will go have our tour of Europe next week, that I can't postpone.

_ I understand, Coste nodded. In the meantime, my men will focus on the other trainings, and maybe Mishka will recover a little, enough to take your place.

_ That's going to be difficult, Sam admitted bitterly, worry constricting his chest again.

_ Why?

Grim recounted him what had happened in the afternoon, and Coste nodded in understanding. He didn't comment on the reasons of the spat between Sam and Kestrel but his stare was obvious enough. He was very concerned about Sam's state too, the Splinter Cell saw it quite clearly.

Then Grim brought the small sandwiches and they started to eat in silence. Sam was aching to phone Elena and have news, but it probably was too early. He asked Coste:

_ So, what are the hours of work?

_ 8.30 to 12 am, then 1 to 5.30 pm. Okay?

_ Okay for me.

_ About the salary, Sam...

_ Half of Mishka's one will be enough, Sam cut him softly. I will have a large pension. But I don't want him to be in difficulty...

_ No need to worry, Coste told him soothingly. He said he would be very satisfied with half of what I offered him, he will also receive a large pension.

_ Okay, Sam relented, reassured.

They drifted onto safer topics, talking about Vic's agents and the work that would have to be done, while digging into the meat and vegetables. And after the trifle made by Grim, Coste rose and said:

_ It's been great. Thanks a lot. But I must leave, I have work to do for tomorrow.

_ You don't want a glass of bourbon? Sam asked in astonishment.

_ Unfortunately I don't have time, Coste said apologetically. Bye, Grim. And see you tomorrow, Sam.

_ See you tomorrow, Vic.

Sam escorted Coste to the front door then went back to the living room. He helped Grim clearing the table then grabbed his phone, shooting her a questioning glance. He waited for her nod of approval then dialed Kestrel's number, switching on the loudspeaker. After one ringing he recognized Elena's voice on the line:

_ Yes?

_ Elena, it's Sam. How's he?

_ He is still sleep, Sam, the Russian doctor told him calmly. But he woke up half hour ago, ask what happened, and I told him. He told he is okay but his leg painful, so I give him product to sleep. He also told he apologize for telling you what he said you.

_ It's okay, Elena, Sam said at last, forcing down his emotion and relief. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have said all I said to him.

_ Don't worry, Sam. He is okay and sleep calmly. He told he want to see you tomorrow in work.

_ I'll be there, Sam told her, feeling gratitude filling his heart. I'll meet him at Vic's firm tomorrow morning.

_ Then it is good, Elena said, a smile in her voice. I must go, Aliosha need bath.

_ Thanks a lot, Elena. Good night.

_ Goodbye, Sam.

He hung up and looked at Grim, waiting for her commentary. She smiled faintly and said:

_ He'll be all right, honey. And if he wants to see you tomorrow, then it means he's still ready to help you and be close to you. So don't be afraid, Sam.

_ I'm not afraid, my love, he said, walking right in front of her and hugging her. I only wish I could take back some of my words.

_ Don't worry about it, honey, she whispered in his ear, kissing and caressing him. Just focus on getting better yourself.

He nodded and buried his face in her neck, only focusing on his love for her. And before he knew it they were making love in their living room, and he felt just great.

When Sam parked in front of Paladin Nine Security headquarters at 8.10 am the following morning, he felt a lot better than the days before. He had to admit that working again had been the right thing for him to do, and he wanted to thank Kestrel for that. The ops had orchestrated all of it, and thus helped his old boss keeping his head out of the water.

He climbed down his car and noticed Briggs' van already parked. Smiling to himself he walked towards the entrance, careful not to do too much efforts since he hadn't taken his cane. And when he entered the lobby he saw Briggs and Coste, deep in conversation and obviously waiting for the team. The two men greeted him warmly and Briggs said just as Charlie was striding towards them, grinning broadly:

_ So Mishka manoeuvered for your coming, Sam? Typical him. But I'm very happy we'll work together again!

_ So am I, sonny, Sam smiled widely, heart light.

_ Welcome, Sam! Charlie said as he shook hands with all the men. So what will you be doing here?

_ He'll teach close combat instead of me, a calm voice resonated behind them.

Sam turned on the spot and saw Kestrel limping towards them, leaning heavily on his cane and looking in pain. But the ops smiled faintly and went right in front of him, locking eyes with him. Sam hesitated for a second, not wanting to do or say the wrong thing again, but he opened his arms and embraced Kestrel. The ops embraced him too and only nodded. But Sam told him, concern in his guts:

_ Thank you very much for what you've done for me, sonny. I feel much better already. But how are you?

_ I don't like to lie, Daddy, Mishka said calmly, so I won't answer that question.

_ Your leg?

_ Partly.

Kestrel didn't elaborate, worrying Sam more than ever, but for the sake of the restored complicity he stayed silent, only hugging him tighter. Then they pulled apart and Kestrel shook hands with all the men. After a few minutes Coste led them to a nearby break room, showing them around their new premises. Sam saw that all four of them would share a large office with a desk for each one of them.

Then Coste led them to the training area, a vast room fully equipped with machines and thick mats. The company even had an impressive shooting range and an even more impressive weapons rack, to Kestrel's obvious satisfaction. And Briggs and Charlie would have a small room each with computers, books and geek stuff. So by the time they came back to the office, every man was smiling and looking satisfied. Coste said:

_ I do hope you'll be in ideal conditions to teach my agents.

_ We'll be without a doubt, Vic, Sam said with a large grin.

_ So, the organization...

Sam noticed that Kestrel hobbled behind a desk and sat heavily on a chair, trying to mask an intense pain. But the ops kept his poker face on and only stared at Coste, silently inviting the waiting director to go on:

_ Every Monday morning you and I will have a debrief about the men having the in-house training. Four agents each week. You'll all teach one of them per day, so it'll be a very personalized training, which is very good. And every Friday afternoon, we'll have a debrief with the agents, taking stock of the week. Does that suit you?

The team nodded, like Sam. And Coste added, checking his watch:

_ It's almost 10 am. All the agents will be there in the conference room. I'll leave you a few minutes then you'll meet them. I'll introduce you all.

_ Okay, Vic, Sam said.

Coste left and Sam turned towards his team. He saw that they were all looking focused and ready, even if Charlie had a slight apprehensive expression. But he knew everything would be all right. He asked them:

_ Ready, boys?

_ Yes, Briggs nodded seriously, imitated by Kestrel.

_ I have the feeling I'm a tamer walking into the lions' cage without any protection, Charlie confessed sullenly.

_ Don't worry, sonny, Sam told him soothingly. Only some jitters, they'll pass very fast. Just be yourself and concentrate on teaching them what you know.

Charlie nodded, looking a little reassured, then Sam shot a look at Kestrel, still on his chair. The ops had been massaging his thigh for the past five minutes and his features were less tightened. Sam asked him:

_ Will your leg hold on, sonny?

_ I give it no choice, Sam, Kestrel answered darkly. This thigh won't give me a bad day, that's just unacceptable. I'll be all right. But I'm in a rather bad temper, I do hope nobody will cross me or make any comments on my cane.

_ Brace yourself, Briggs said calmly, you know somebody will be stupid enough to make some comment like that. The agents will wonder how you'll be able to teach them something with a bad leg.

_ Appearances can be deceiving, Kestrel said even more calmly but with a hint of anger Sam heard perfectly well. Woe to him who says a wrong thing today!

_ If something like that happens, Sam told him gently, just make your point, sonny. No need to be rash, just show them your capacities. You were supposed to be their close combat teacher, show them you could easily do it.

Kestrel stared at him for long seconds, clearly thinking about it, then nodded with a ruthless smile. He got up and said:

_ In this case I'll have more fun than I would've thought. You remember the three rules, Sam?

_ Well enough, sonny, Sam grinned, highly amused. I taught you about them, even if you already had a rough idea about all these with your Russian training.

_ Indeed, Kestrel said as around him Briggs laughed softly and Charlie grinned broadly. Well, the first dummy to comment on me or us will have a public lesson about them, if you don't mind. That I can do quite easily, even with a cane.

_ You just do that, Sam said with a small laugh. It'll be fun indeed. Now I wish somebody _will_ be stupid enough! I wouldn't want to miss it.

_ Neither would I, Briggs said, eyes twinkling.

_ Nor me, Charlie said, sniggering.

Sam saw a faint smile playing on Kestrel's lips at last, then Coste reentered the office. He asked, seeing their rejoiced faces:

_ What's so funny?

_ Vic, Sam asked him, do you think you have among all your agents at least one idiot that would make a sneaky comment on us, and more specifically on Mishka?

_ Very probably, Coste answered, puzzled. I have a few hotheads with little brains, good agents but just not the thinking type. Why?

_ Then don't interfere and just let Mishka teach his very first lesson, Sam grinned, winking at Kestrel who winked back. That will be fun.

_ I see, Coste said, smiling too. Just don't send the poor idiot who'll open his big mouth to hospital, please, Mishka.

_ Don't worry, Victor, Kestrel said calmly, still smiling. No need to break limbs to make oneself understood.

_ A true disciple of Sam Fisher, Coste commented, amused. I like you more and more, Mishka! But now, we should get going. The agents are waiting for us.

_ Now I feel much better, Charlie murmured to Sam, a grin still etched on his face.

Sam clapped his shoulder and set off, following Coste to the great conference room. When he entered, he saw all sixty-four agents, sitting on white plastic chairs, falling silent and looking at him and his team. And when Kestrel entered last, still limping and leaning on his cane, he heard an incredulous whisper and some snorts, and had to mask his amusement. Not long until maximum fun, Fisher, he thought wickedly.

The five men stood in line on a stage facing the agents and Coste said, turning towards his agents:

_ Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you our new teaching team. Next to me, Mr Sam Fisher. On his left Mr Charlie Cole. And next Mr Isaac Briggs, and last Mr Mishka Loskov.

_ Mishka! some derisive voice rose from one of the back rows, not careful to keep quiet. What a stupid name! And what is he gonna teach, with this cane? Is he the geek man?

Sam couldn't help turning towards his ops who had his best poker-faced expression on, but he saw well enough the sparkling irises and the shadow of a smile on the corner of his mouth. He fought the rising laughter as Kestrel took a step forward and said calmly but clearly:

_ The stupid name stands for Mikhail, a name no average American guy can pronounce correctly, so yes, I'll be called Mishka. But first, it'll be Mr Loskov. And no, I'm not the geek man, as some idiot among you assumed. But will the guy who said this please stand up and come here, and tell all of this to my face?

An uneasy silence fell as Sam scanned the crowd who wasn't amused so much anymore. Predictably nobody rose. Then Kestrel said:

_ Very well.

He limped towards the back rows and stopped at the second from last, and pointed at a burly guy:

_ You, sir, please stand up.

The guy, a little embarrassed but mostly defiant, rose and shot a dirty look at Kestrel who said, still very calmly:

_ Now you're not hidden among your colleagues anymore, will you repeat what you said?

The guy bit his lips then spat:

_ I said Mishka was a stupid name, and I wondered what you would teach us with a cane and a bad leg!

_ There, Kestrel said with a voice full of irony. Wasn't so hard, was it? As for what I'm going to teach, follow me, Mr... ?

_ Chuck Brownfield.

_ Mr Brownfield.

Kestrel hobbled back to the stage, smiling ruthlessly, and Sam rejoiced inwardly. A few more seconds, then revenge would be sweet.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

As he climbed back on the stage and faced his guinea pig, Kestrel tried to hide his amusement. He was helped by the pain he felt in his thigh, sending aching jolts through his back and whole leg, but he also felt quite good at showing the idiot – and the audience – what he still could do.

He said calmly as the team and Coste spread around him and the big-mouthed agent, giving them space:

_ So, Mr Brownfield. You were wondering what I would teach. I'm not the geek man, as you called it. So, want a second guess?

The burly guy, clearly ill at ease now he wasn't a lost and anonymous voice among his colleagues anymore, wisely didn't respond. So the ops sighed and said:

_ Shame. It's much more difficult to say aloud sneaky comments when one lies under a spotlight, isn't it, Mr Brownfield?

He forced down the rising laughter as the agent reddened in front of him, clearly offended, and scarce laughter echoed in the room. Around him Coste, Briggs and Charlie were trying hard to keep a straight face and Sam's eyes were twinkling. But he had a lesson to give. So he went on:

_ Now, I'll give you some hints. Three rules to be memorized and deeply etched in your brain. For all of you, he added for the silent crowd. And to make my point, Mr Brownfield here will assist me.

He stared hard at the agent who swallowed uneasily, even if he was smaller than the burly guy by about two inches. He told him with a firm tone:

_ Mr Brownfield, show me your technique to control somebody and pin them to the ground. Do it on me.

The agent, quite pale, seemed to guess what all that was about and didn't move. So Kestrel ordered him, more harshly:

_ Mr Brownfield, do it now!

_ I... I can't, the poor guy stammered, shuffling on his feet. You've got a cane and are clearly impaired by your leg, I...

Swift as a snake, Kestrel moved. He took a step forward, grabbed the collar of Brownfield's sweatshirt and pulled. In the same microsecond he used his cane as a grappling hook, turning it and grappling the agent's right ankle. The next second, Brownfiled landed hard on the stage on his butt, in a thick silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Kestrel saw awe on the faces of the incredulous agents, but he stayed focused on his prey. He said calmly, the lesson starting:

_ First rule, and the most important: never, ever, underestimate your opponent. You can never know who is the person facing you before you fight him or her. Maybe that twelve year-old-girl of ninety pounds across the street has a black belt in karate. Maybe the seventy-year-old grandfather hobbling around in the park is an old boxing champion. Or, he said while watching a very disgruntled Brownfield getting to his feet, maybe the new teacher with a cane and a stiff leg is a former Russian spetsznaz who became an American field operative with a twenty-year career behind him.

Silence was thick as maple syrup as he faced the angry agent again, and he knew he had made his point already. Now he had gained some respect, but the lesson wasn't finished. He told a wary Brownfield:

_ Now you know my cane and leg won't prevent me from whipping your butt if I want, Mr Brownfield. So try again. Don't be afraid.

The agent reddened again, but now Kestrel saw it was from anger. And as the burly guy attacked, he saw the pattern of the attack quite clearly and dodged the strike. He grabbed the outstretched arm of his opponent and twisted it in a vise grip, immobilizing the agent who couldn't do a single movement unless he wanted a broken wrist. He explained aloud, more calmly than ever:

_ Second rule: always be in control. Mr Brownfield attacked me under the effect of shame and anger, powerful emotions that give you a huge energy but blind you from the objective, detached point of view you must have in every tense situation. It's very difficult, and often impossible, to be in control of a situation of crisis. Too many variables. So to keep the upper hand on what is happening you must keep control on yourself at the very least. Keeping a cool head is the key to handle a difficult situation and avoid casualties. So no rash attacks, it's useless. And on the contrary, if you face hostile people, it can give them some control over you, which should be avoided as much as possible.

He let go of the agent who massaged his wrist, eyeing him with hatred, and scanned the crowd. He could see that the lesson wasn't a waste of time, and he was having fun, two great things. Discreetly Sam and Briggs winked at him and Charlie gave him the thumbs-up. He added as Brownfield took a step back before him, having stepped forward:

_ And the third rule is the condition for the first two to happen. In order to keep a clear head in a crisis, have control over yourself and never make the mistake of underestimating your opponent, one thing is needed: training. Physical training, of course, to be in capacity of answering any tense situation, but also and above all mental training. Staying sharp and focused is of vital importance in your line of work.

He stopped and addressed Brownfield, looking furious:

_ Thank you, Mr Brownfield. Now you can go sit back.

He turned on the spot and hobbled to the rest of the team, but he had barely walked three steps when Sam ran past him as he heard heavy footsteps in his back, obviously Brownfield attacking him. He heard a grunt of surprise and pain, followed by a huge mass crumpling to the ground, and said as he turned round next to Briggs:

_ These three rules are very important in close combat training, of course, but also in weapons handling. And that's what I'll teach you. Your close combat teacher will be Mr Sam Fisher, my mentor who taught me a great part of what I know today, and an outstanding field agent with twice more experience than me.

He couldn't help the smile on his lips as he took in the view before him: Brownfield lying on the stage and groaning, a swelling bruise on his left temple, Sam staring down at him and looking outraged, Briggs and Charlie grinning wickedly, Coste looking impressed, and every remaining agent looking thunderstruck and in awe.

Coste ordered two of his agents to make Brownfield rise and bring him to a break room, then he told the first four agents who would start the training to be ready at 1 pm. And Sam and his team exited the conference room, heading back to their office. Kestrel was bringing up the rear, feeling satisfied but his leg hurting him so much he knew he had to sit down very soon.

And when he finally entered the office, he was staggering so much on his feet and cane that Sam and Briggs rushed to his side and supported him to the nearest chair. He sat down with a hardly stifled groan of pain and started to massage his thigh right away. The team was staring at him with concern, and he knew that this time he couldn't avoid some explanations. So when Sam asked his question, he was ready to answer.

_ What's happening to you, sonny? Is your leg still painful from yesterday?

_ Yes, Sam, he nodded calmly, trying to mask his pain. I made too much efforts yesterday, and now I'm paying the hard price for it. But don't worry, it'll pass.

_ What happened, mate? Briggs asked, frowning in worry. We know you collapsed in the street, we were there when your neighbours brought you home.

_ I've been careless, Kestrel admitted with a wince. I was so mad yesterday that after I left Elena I ran about four kilometers before regaining some composure. By then it was already too late, the pain was becoming unbearable. So I phoned Victor and made my way home, but I never made it. You probably know the rest. I awoke in the evening, my thigh hurting like mad, so Elena eased my pain by giving me a sleeping pill. And when I got up this morning, I was still in pain and furious at myself. And here we are.

He stopped, still massaging the wooden log his thigh had become, and surveyed his teammates' reactions. They looked concerned, of course, but still amused from the lesson. So to change the subject and concentrate on another thing than his pain he asked:

_ So, how about my first lesson? Was I up to it, Sam?

_ You were, sonny, Sam grinned, looking relieved. I couldn't have done better myself.

_ Thanks for protecting me.

_ Don't mention it. This agent is truly stupid, wanting to attack you like that.

_ Poor Brownfield! Briggs said in false sympathy. He should've stayed in bed this morning.

_ Or just shut up, Charlie chimed in with a large smile. He didn't look so bright, did he?

_ No, Briggs acknowledged. But now all this excitement has made me hungry. Where can we have lunch?

_ We have three restaurants a hundred meters from here, Coste answered, entering the office. One Chinese, one Mexican and one French. And there are more in a kilometer-radius. We only have to pick one.

_ What about Chinese food for once? Briggs asked, looking at his teammates.

Kestrel nodded, only starving. And everybody looked okay, so they set off. Soon all five men were sitting in an overcrowded restaurant room, eating noodles or slices of pork with sauce and rice, and Kestrel thoroughly enjoyed the all-you-can-eat buffet. Coste, undoubtedly outmatched, was eyeing him with astonishment and renewed respect, and told him in an undertone:

_ Lucky me the bet we made is over, then. You would've ruined me, Mishka.

Kestrel only smiled while digging into his pork rolls, and soon got up to help himself for the fifth time, under the appalled stare of the restaurant manager. Soon he had filled himself with the delicious food and reclined back on his chair, sighing contentedly. Around him the four men were chatting calmly about the agents that would start the training, and Coste told them that Ben Woodridge, Sam's son-in-law, would be one of them.

_ And he asked me if he could start with you, Sam, Coste added with a smile. He wanted the honour to be your first pupil. I said yes.

_ He won't be disappointed, Sam said with a twinkle in his eyes. No favours from me, he'll sweat like the rest.

_ Ben is a good agent, Coste said seriously. He won't be the worst by far. He has a good physical condition and is very smart. Wish I had more agents like him.

_ Do you have some who will have difficulties with us? Briggs asked curiously.

_ With Charlie and you, a lot, I think. Some can hardly read and write their names. But fewer with Mishka and Sam, I hope.

_ And with these ones, Briggs asked, wouldn't it be wiser to teach them how to read and write correctly first?

Coste visibly thought about it, but Charlie said in disdain:

_ We're not elementary school teachers, Briggs. That's not our job. And how could it be useful to teach them what they haven't been able to learn years ago?

_ It would be more useful than you think, Kestrel intervened calmly. For my part, I was very happy and grateful when my instructor in the Russian Army took the time to teach me how to read and write. You can't know how impairing it is not knowing how to do these simple things.

Around him he saw bewildered looks, and Charlie blushed in shame. Sam asked him kindly:

_ You didn't know how to read and write before your conscription period?

_ No, Kestrel admitted calmly, not ashamed anymore. In Russia school becomes compulsory at the age of seven, and for some reasons my parents haven't sent me to pre-school. Then they died when I was six, and when I was sent in my foster home my lovely stepfather didn't see fit to make me going to school. So I never went to a classroom and didn't know how to read and write until one of my instructors took pity on me and taught me during long evenings. When finally I was able to write and read my own name, it was such a victory for me! It took me six months to be able to read fluently, and about a year to write correctly. But that changed my life.

He locked eyes with his teammates who were slowly recovering from the shock, then Coste said at last:

_ Maybe it won't be a waste of time at all to help the agents who greatly need it. Would you be ready to do it, Briggs?

_ Yes, Victor, the ops nodded seriously. But maybe we could organize a lesson in the evening, after work, it would be better. Once or twice a week would be ideal.

_ Yes, Coste acknowledged.

_ I'm ready to do it too, Sam said. With two teachers, twop groups, and more agents helped.

_ That would be great! Coste rejoiced, clapping his best friend's shoulder.

_ Sorry I can't offer that, Kestrel said with regret. English isn't my native language, I don't feel able to teach it.

_ But maybe you could give Russian lessons? Coste suggested. I'm fairly certain some agents would be interested. There's a large Russian community in Baltimore and we have to deal with them from time to time.

_ Why not? he answered after a few seconds of thinking. Once a week, then.

_ Good, Coste said happily, rubbing his hands. And of course, I won't interfere. Many agents will be probably ashamed to admit in front of me they can't read or write, so it'll be anonymous lessons that won't have anything to do with me, okay?

Kestrel nodded, like Sam and Briggs, and Coste said:

_ We'll talk about it again tomorrow. Thank you all. Now, it's almost 1 pm, we should get going.

_ I'll start with data analysis, Briggs announced as they exited the restaurant and walked back to the firm's building. Physical fitness will be for tomorrow morning.

_ Eaten too much shrimp ravioli? Kestrel asked in mockery, hobbling next to him.

_ Shut up, mate! Briggs scowled at him but a faint smile playing on his lips. I'm not an ogre like you!

_ Maybe not, Kestrel winked at him, but at least I don't feel too full and sleepy to give my lesson.

Briggs shook his head in amusement, and they soon entered their office. Coste wished them well and left, a lot of work was waiting for him. Kestrel helped himself with a coffee, like Sam and Charlie, and soon they went back to the conference room. The four agents were waiting for them, a little apprehension on their faces, and soon they separated. Kestrel led his pupil, a small African American guy called Max Johns, to the shooting range, and the lesson started.

Johns was a terrible shooter and clearly lacked self-confidence, so Kestrel began with the basics: how to hold a weapon, how to assemble and disassemble it, etc... But by the time it was 5.15 pm, Johns could hit the target at five meters. Not in the circle, but on the target, which was a big improvement. Then Kestrel showed him how to clean the gun, an essential task, and when they exited the shooting range, Johns was grinning widely, saying he couldn't wait to learn more the following day.

Kestrel made his way back to the office, thinking that thanks to the comfortable chair in the shooting range his leg wasn't aching too much, which was good. He was the first one and poured himself a mug of coffee. As he sipped it, Sam went in and asked him:

_ All right, sonny?

_ Everything's fine, Daddy. You?

_ Great lesson, Sam said, sweating heavily and sitting down at his desk with a sigh. Ben is even better than I'd thought. Fortunately he doesn't know Krav Maga or I wouldn't have anything to teach him.

_ Your knee?

_ Okay. But I am a little bit sore, I admit.

_ Just go easy, Sam, Kestrel told him with a smile as Briggs and Charlie entered. And don't forget to see Elena.

_ I don't forget, sonny. I'll have to phone her about that. So, boys? he asked Briggs and Charlie. How did it go?

_ It was great! Charlie said enthusiastically. The agent I taught learned loads of stuff!

_ That's good, Sam rejoiced. And you, Briggs?

_ Mine almost fell asleep on his desk, the ops confessed with a wince, but so did I.

Kestrel burst out laughing, along with Sam and Charlie, and Briggs said apologetically:

_ I won't eat too much at lunch from now on.

_ Good program, sonny, Sam said, wiping his eyes.

Then Kestrel rose and said:

_ I'll have to leave, I must fetch Aliosha. See you tomorrow at 5 am at Briggs', then?

The smiles disappeared from the faces of his friends, but Sam said grimly:

_ Yes, sonny. See you tomorrow.

He nodded then left, a chill sending shivers down his spine. He didn't like having to go to the airport the following morning, but he wanted to accompany his team while sending Fedorova back to Russia. But he didn't want to dwell on this, so he concentrated on his driving and soon parked at the foot of the nanny's building in Shipley Hill, his old neighbourhood. The young woman would move the following week, closer to their house, so Aliosha would follow and change school.

As soon as he stepped inside the apartment, Aliosha welcomed him with cries of delight and ran into his outstretched arms, warming him throughout all his body. And while hugging tightly the small boy against his chest, he thought that he was very lucky to have a family and couldn't wait for Aliosha to become his son.

They made their way to their house in Murray Hill and while Kestrel cooked dinner Aliosha played next to him with his animal figurines. The ops was smiling and shooting softened glances at his future son, asking him how was his day at kindergarten then at the nanny's, and Aliosha answered him with delight. Soon Elena arrived and the little boy ran into her arms too, then she went next to Kestrel and they kissed at last. He asked, taking her in his arms and speaking in Russian as usual:

_ How are you, любимая _(my love)_? How was your work?

_ I'm quite fine, she answered, looking exhausted. But I swear the baby feeds on my energy, my love. I'm on my knees.

_ Dinner is ready, he said, kissing her again. And I'll give Aliosha his bath if you want.

_ That would be great, любимый _(darling)_ , she sighed.

He kissed her again, happy to enjoy a simple evening with his family, and soon dinner was eaten and Aliosha asleep in his bed. Then he went to his bedroom, followed by Elena, and they quickly fell asleep after talking a little then some intense lovemaking.

The following morning, the alarm clock woke him up at 4 am, making him groan softly in disgust. But he had to go. So he rose, took a good shower then kissed Elena goodbye. She woke up in a daze and told him:

_ Be careful, my love. Have a good day.

_ You too, любимая _(my love)_ , he murmured, kissing her again and reluctant to leave. I love you.

_ Love you too, Mishka.

They kissed a last time then he left, watching her falling asleep within the next three seconds. Softened, he went to see Aliosha who was sleeping soundly and kissed the boy on his forehead. Then he had a mug of coffee and some bagels before leaving, an uneasy knot tightening his stomach.

At precisely 5 am he knocked on Briggs' door and his best friend opened, looking sleepy but determined. Sam arrived five minutes after him, and the three men set off. Briggs drove them to the airport, nobody was saying a thing. Kestrel sensed that the matter was critical and he only wanted to see their enemy aboard the plane that would lead her to her fate. And he still also felt uneasiness in his guts, making him want to run away. As Briggs parked, Sam said darkly before climbing down:

_ Let's wish her all the good we think about her.

Kestrel didn't comment, only wanting this done as quickly as possible, and Briggs simply nodded, not too at ease either. The three men walked to the international terminal, Kestrel silently cursing his stiff thigh, and at 5.45 am they were waiting in front of the boarding gate.

And five minutes later, Fedorova appeared, flanked by two CIA agents and hands cuffed in front of her. She was walking grimly towards the gate, and Kestrel said in an undertone:

_ I don't like this. They should've handcuffed her behind her back.

The group was seven meters away from them when Fedorova spotted them. An evil grin spread onto her face as she eyed them with hatred and spat:

_ See you all in hell, Fourth Echelon!

_ You first, Sam growled loudly, shaking with anger.

She smacked her lips in mockery as the agents steered her away, but Kestrel saw her eyes glinting with malice. She was up to something. He ordered:

_ Down!

Briggs obeyed at once just as Fedorova tackled down the agent on her right and thrust her elbow in the face of the one on her left. As the guy backed a step, howling, she swiftly reached for his holster and extracted a pistol, then aimed at Sam who hadn't moved, frozen in shock.

_ For Giovanni! she screamed in hatred.

In a microsecond, Kestrel knew the Splinter Cell wouldn't have the time to dodge and that she would kill him. She was too good with weapons. So instinctively he jumped in front of the man he loved as a father, wanting to protect him until the end, and received the three bullets in his chest. The force of the impacts knocked him backwards, making him collapse and bringing Sam down behind him, but in a blur he saw the second agent taking out his gun and shooting Fedorova.

As he landed hard on the floor of the airport, an unbearable pain expanding in his chest, he saw his arch-enemy falling too, hit in the head and dead before touching ground. His breathing was hurting like mad and his vision blurring, and he dimly knew that this time death was awaiting him. He had only one regret: not live long enough to know his coming baby.

Underneath him Sam stirred, sat up and shifted position, taking him in his arms, and called him in anguish:

_ Mishka! Sonny! Mishka!

At least Sam is safe, he dimly thought as his teammates bent over him, Sam cradling him in his arms and calling his name, and Briggs yelling for the medical team of the airport. And his conscience drifted away.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Sam couldn't believe what had happened in the past three seconds. He was sitting on the floor of the airport, cradling a dying Kestrel in his arms, and Fedorova was lying dead a few meters away. The ops was only half-conscious, blood streaming out of three wounds in his chest, his breathing jerky and difficult, and Sam realized that he had saved his life. Kestrel had shielded him, receiving the bullets made for him, and he couldn't accept that. He called the man he regarded as a son, not wanting to let him die like that:

_ Mishka! Stay with me! You can't die now! Mishka!

The ops' eyes, quite glassy already, focused back a little on him, and he said in a weak murmur, a pink foam forming in the corners of his mouth, a sign that blood was pouring in his lungs and would drown him eventually:

_ Daddy... Elena... My children...

Sam stared at his ops' imploring eyes, wanting to promise him all he could do to ease his torment, and vowed, taking the ops' hand and his voice breaking:

_ I swear I'll look after them, sonny. But you'll just do it too. Stay with me, sonny! Fight!

Kestrel started to cough, and blood poured out of his mouth. Briggs knelt in front of him and said, devastated:

_ The medics are coming. Stay awake, mate! Stay with us!

Sam could only watch as his other ops tried to staunch the bleeding by pressing bits of clothes onto Kestrel's wounds, but he knew it was useless. Despair erupted in him, making him shaking with grief and rage, and he pleaded, tears running down his cheeks:

_ Mishka, don't die! Don't die, sonny! Your family needs you! We need you! Don't die!

Kestrel's gaze, far away from them, fixed on some point above their heads, and Sam saw the light slowly extinguishing in them. He called louder, under the moved expressions of the passengers clustered around them:

_ Don't die, sonny! Stay with me! Mishka!

He still felt the ops' hand gripping his own, and knew that as long as he was feeling his grip there was hope. And the medical crew arrived, kneeling down and bending on Kestrel in haste. They soon treated his wounds and put him on a stretcher, then rose. Sam could only follow, Kestrel's hand like iron on his, and the doctor said:

_ Please let him go, we need to go!

Sam, although reluctant at letting go of his ops' hand, tried to obey, but Kestrel's grip was way too strong. He said:

_ I can't let go. He's gripping me too hard.

_ What's his name?

_ Mishka Loskov.

_ Mr Loskov? the doctor called as Sam set off right next to his ops' stretcher, running as fast as he could and ignoring the growing pain in his knee, Briggs next to him. You'll be all right, we'll drive you to hospital. But I need you to let go of your friend's hand.

Sam felt Kestrel's grip tightening around his hand, slowly making it numb, and he said, some part of him deeply relieved:

_ He's squeezing harder.

The doctor and Briggs tried to wrench Kestrel's hand open, but Sam knew it was no good. His ops was the strongest man he knew, and if he didn't want to let go, then nobody would force him to. He had his eyes closed now and was still coughing blood, having more and more difficulty to breathe, but Sam was reassured to see they soon reached an ambulance, sirens already wailing.

He hopped on board first, Kestrel still holding him like an anchor, and soon the ops was next to him. The medical crew took care of him, putting an oxygen mask over his face and bandaging his chest, and before the doors slammed shut Briggs said:

_ I'll follow you, Sam!

The Splinter Cell only nodded, anguish filling his lungs, and they departed. The trip seemed to last an eternity for Sam, but in reality it only took eight minutes to reach the Bon Secours Hospital, as the driver was speeding like a maniac. He could see that Kestrel was fighting to stay alive, every rattling breath hurting him, but he also saw that the ops was slowly losing his fight. He was slowly drowning into his own blood, and Sam raged at feeling so helpless.

Then, as the ambulance screeched to a halt in front of the emergency unit, Kestrel coughed violently, filling his mask with blood. The doctor removed it as the paramedics slid his stretcher out, and Kestrel heaved a small sigh, then his hand opened at last, letting go of Sam's numb one.

_ No, the Splinter Cell said, watching in dread as "his son" was hurriedly whisked away inside the building. No, no, no!

He ran after them, fear and anguish constricting his heart, and called out:

_ No, Mishka! Don't die! Don't die, sonny!

_ Sir, please leave us, the doctor said calmly, bent over the ops. There's a waiting room right at the end of the corridor, please go there.

_ No! Sam refused, still running next to the stretcher. He's my son! I can't let him die!

_ We'll do all we can to save him, the doc said firmly, but we need space and quiet. So please wait for us.

Sam, knowing that he couldn't do anything more for his ops, stopped and watched the team entering a surgery unit, Kestrel very pale and visibly not breathing anymore. And when the thick doors closed, he broke down. He stood in the middle of the corridor, sobbing desperately in his hands, until a familiar voice rose next to him and strong hands steered him to the waiting room:

_ Come on, Sam, it'll be all right. He's tough, he'll survive. Come on, we'll wait in the room. Let's find some chairs.

He dimly recognized Briggs' voice and let himself be steered to an armchair. He collapsed on it, still sobbing, hands over his face, and vaguely heard Briggs, sounding very worried but trying to keep calm and upbeat, calling Grim, Elena, Charlie and Coste, telling them what had happened. Then Briggs told him:

_ Elena and Grim are coming. And Victor and Charlie will stay at work, but they asked me to keep them posted as soon as we have news.

_ He saved me! Sam sobbed, despair tearing him apart. She shot him because he saved me! He's dying instead of me!

_ Don't beat yourself up, Sam, Briggs said, putting a hand on his boss' shoulder. He's tough, he'll survive. Trust him.

_ He asked me to take care of Elena and his children! Maybe he'll die! And it'll be all my fault!

Sam's sobs intensified, a crushing guilt building up in his chest. He was the one responsible for what had happened. He had insisted to go to the airport, even if Kestrel didn't want to, and he hadn't moved when the ops had told him to go down, paralyzed in shock. So now he was okay, and Kestrel was fighting for life, because of him.

He felt so bad his head started to spin and his stomach churned, and he ran to the closest toilets. When he had finished retching, he splashed some water on his gaunt face, telling himself that if his ops died, he would never forgive himself. When he got out, Briggs was waiting for him, looking worried. But he didn't say anything and resumed his seat, oblivious to the curious faces of the waiting people around them.

Half an hour later Grim arrived and ran into his arms. He clang to her like she was a lifebuoy and started to sob again. The guilt and remorse he felt were so high he feared he would have to run to the toilets another time, but she caressed his back and whispered in his ear:

_ It's not your fault, Sam. This horrible woman is the guilty one, and she's dead. She got what she deserved. Don't blame yourself. And don't worry, he'll be all right.

A little appeased, he only nodded in her neck and held on her for a few more minutes before they sat down, side by side. Briggs was calling Molly and Sam saw him trembling for the first time since the dreadful events, looking badly shaken and anguished. Then Elena arrived, still in her working blouse, visibly having cried a lot but now looking focused and calm. She asked them:

_ What news?

_ None, Briggs told her sullenly.

She nodded and marched to the entrance of the emergency unit. Sam saw her arguing calmly with the secretary in charge, but finally the woman let her in, and she disappeared inside. Sam then fell into a kind of daze, only wishing all this were a giant nightmare and he would wake up soon, in his bed, and nothing would've happened yet. But Grim's arm around him was warm and real enough, the acrid smell of cleaning and disinfecting products strong in his nostrils, and the people shuffling and roaming around them so loudly he knew he wasn't sleeping. So he waited, only focused on urging his ops to cling to life at all costs.

Then Kestrel's doctor came back into the room, and Sam shook himself out of his torpor. He glanced at his watch and saw that more than three hours had passed since their arrival, and noticed the gloomy face in front of him. But he rose and asked with a hoarse voice:

_ How is he?

_ We had to put him into a medically-induced coma, the doctor explained seriously. He was so badly wounded we had no choice. Now his wounds are closed and his lungs are free from blood, but...

_ What, Briggs asked, very tense. He'll be okay, won't he?

_ We don't know, the doctor admitted darkly. He's breathing with the help of machines, and we don't know if he'll live if we switch them off. His brain is in a coma, so we can't know if it's still in working order. I'd say he has a fifty-fifty chance of staying alive, but the same of dying. To know for sure we'd have to switch the machines off, but it's impossible for now. He needs time to heal first.

Sam, devastated at knowing that maybe Kestrel would die soon, collapsed on his armchair, his head spinning more than ever and feeling nausea up his throat again. He vaguely registered Grim asking him if he was all right before a black veil fell before his eyes, and he blacked out.

When he came round, he was lying on a bed in a small room, thankfully his clothes still on, and the doctor who had taken care of Kestrel was bent over him, listening to his heart and lungs.

_ Mr Fisher? Can you hear me?

_ Yes, he said quite hoarsely. What happened?

_ You fainted, the calm doctor explained. The shock, I think. But don't worry, everything's all right, it seems.

_ Mishka... is he... ?

_ He's still alive, Mr Fisher, the doctor said seriously, straightening and shooting him a compassionate look. His fiancée is with him. You'll be able to go and see him if you want.

_ Yes please, Sam said, sitting up in spite of his head still spinning a little.

_ Go easy, Mr Fisher, the doctor said, not fooled by the Splinter Cell's masked expression. I can see you're not at one hundred percent, so just take care.

_ Will do, doc.

_ Your wife and friend are waiting outside. Shall I fetch them?

_ Please.

The doctor left and ten seconds later Grim and Briggs entered the room, looking relieved.

_ Sam, honey! Grim exclaimed, running to him and hugging him tightly after a deep kiss. How are you feeling?

_ Not at my best, Sam admitted, but better than Mishka, I think.

Tears welled up in his eyes as in front of him Grim and Briggs' faces darkened. He asked them:

_ Is all this real? It's not a nightmare?

_ No, Sam, Grim told him gently, sitting on the bed beside him and taking his hand, eyes sad. It's not a nightmare.

_ What will happen now? he sobbed, despair engulfing him once more. I don't want him to die! I couldn't stand him to die!

_ Sam, Briggs said, his voice trembling as his boss sobbed in Grim's shoulder, we don't know how he is. You heard the doctor, maybe he'll make it.

_ But maybe not, Sam stammered through huge, heart-breaking sobs that hurt him and tore him apart.

_ We have to believe he'll make it, Briggs insisted calmly but firmly. He's the toughest man we know, and for my part I'm sure he'll fight until he wakes up. We have to be there for him and his family in the meantime.

_ How's Elena?

_ We haven't seen her since her arrival, Grim said kindly. Are you ready, Sam?

_ Yes, he said, getting up. I want to see him.

Grim gave him back his cane she had brought with her and he leaned heavily on it, his knee hurting him a lot, but he gritted his teeth and walked as fast as he could towards Kestrel's bedroom, number 125. And when Briggs knocked on the door, he heard Elena's calm voice answering:

_ Come in.

Briggs opened the door and went in first, and Sam followed him, Grim behind him. And when he laid eyes on Kestrel, lying still and countless tubes and cables connecting him to bulky machines around him, he broke down again. But this time, Elena went right in front of him and told him:

_ Do not cry, Sam. He not dead. He is alive, he is strong.

_ But if he dies, he sobbed, despair wrenching his guts, it'll be my fault, Elena.

_ No, Sam, she shook her head, and Sam saw through his tears the doctor's eyes very bright too. Mishka told he don't want to go this morning to airport, but he told me he want to be with friends and protect them. And he protected you, Briggs told me. He is so much good man!

She sobbed at last, cracking under the great pressure too, and Sam and she wept in each other's arms for a few minutes. Around them Briggs and Grim were shedding tears too, but soon Elena regained composure and asked:

_ Where is his medical file? I need it.

_ He has it, Sam told her after taking deep breaths and clearing his throat. In an external hard drive Charlie gave him.

_ Okay, she nodded. Then it is in office home. I need to read.

_ Elena, Sam said as he shot a look of anguish upon Kestrel, in this hard drive there is also a database. Voron's database. Mishka's former agency in Russia. Please don't look into that.

_ Why? she asked, puzzled. I not afraid of his past.

_ That's not the problem, he said seriously, inhaling deeply. Knowing about it could be very dangerous for you. If Mishka dies...

His voice wavered, but he forced himself to continue. He had made a vow to his dying ops, and he would hold his promise. He would protect Elena and their children.

_ If he dies, I'm not sure the truce between us and Voron will hold on. And I don't want you to become their target. The less you know about them and about his past with them, the better.

She nodded again, clearly understanding, and said:

_ I not look into database, I promise. Just his medical file.

Sam nodded too, then took three steps forward next to his ops. Kestrel was looking at peace and not in pain, but Sam knew that behind the front nobody could tell what was happening in the mind of a person in a coma. He said aloud, trying to keep his voice calm and controlled:

_ Hi, sonny! We're all here around you. Well, except Charlie, but he's with us in thought. Don't worry, sonny, you're in a medically-induced coma, but it's for your healing. Soon you'll be better and up. So get your strength back, take your time, and we'll chat nicely very soon, okay?

On the bed, Kestrel didn't stir. The machines didn't waver. Sam, feeling like he would break down again soon, whispered:

_ See you soon, sonny.

Then he turned on the spot and strode out of the room, tears flooding down his eyes. He couldn't stand seeing the man so close to his heart he regarded him as his own son being kept alive thanks to heartless machines, it was just too horrible. And he was dreading the time when these machines would be switched off. Because he remembered well Kestrel's last will. He himself had written it while the ops dictated it, five years ago.

Shaking these bad thoughts away he hobbled towards the exit, and soon Grim caught up with him. She asked him tentatively:

_ Sam?

_ Yes, my love?

_ You don't want to stay a little bit more?

_ No. What can I do? I'm helpless.

_ That's not true, Grim told him gently. What you told him was nice. You know that when he briefly was in a coma during our operation in Afghanistan seven years ago, I talked to him, just like you did now? And when he woke up the following day, he told me he heard me. That I helped him by speaking to him. So you're not helpless, Sam. And maybe you've just helped him likewise.

_ I hope so, my love, he could only say through his emotion, but I'm so afraid! I don't want him to die!

_ Neither do I, she said, taking his free hand and squeezing it. But he won't. Trust him, Sam. He won't die.

He wanted so much to believe her he kissed her hand, but his heart was telling him otherwise, and he couldn't accept it. He only wanted to be alone for a few moments, gather his bearings and face what had happened. But he also knew that Grim and the team wouldn't let him alone. And some part of him knew they were right. In his state being alone was quite dangerous. But he needed it.

A bad idea formed in his numb mind as they reached Grim's car, and he thought about it during their way home. And when they went into their house, he settled in his office and took out his phone. He called Charlie first.

_ Sam? What news?

_ He's in a medically-induced coma, he answered darkly, his mind almost blank in delayed shock. And some machines make him breathe. The doctors don't know what will happen if the machines are switched off.

_ Don't tell me... Charlie's voice quivered.

_ Yes, Charlie. He could die. That's a fifty-fifty.

Sam heard hardly stifled sobs in the phone, but soon Charlie's rage erupted:

_ Curse that Fedorova bitch! Even dead she's ruining our lives!

_ Calm down, Charlie, Sam tried to appease him. There's nothing we can do about it.

_ I'm sorry, Sam. Gotta go. I'll tell Victor.

_ Okay, thanks.

_ See you tomorrow?

_ I don't know, sonny, he admitted. I'll keep you posted, right?

_ Okay, Sam.

Charlie hung up, and Sam phoned Sarah, explaining what had happened to her. She was distraught, of course, but like everyone else she told him Kestrel would make it. But he himself doubted it so much he couldn't share their optimism. He was only seeing bad things, Kestrel's glassy eyes, he coughing blood and his hand letting go of his. As Sarah cut the communication, telling him to rest, he closed his eyes and the nightmarish scene replayed before his closed eyelids, making him wanting to yell in anguish and despair again.

_ Sam?

Grim's voice shook him out of the bad reverie and he focused on her. She was staring at him with concern from the threshold, and asked gently:

_ Do you want to have a shower now, before lunch?

_ A shower?

He looked down at his hands and clothes, and realized only now that he was covered in Kestrel's blood. His hands were red and his pullover and cargo pants were matted with large brownish stains. Suddenly he panicked and started to tear his clothes down, saying in a ragged voice:

_ Now! I want a shower now!

Grim hurried next to him and steered him to their bathroom where he ran into the shower stall, hastily scrubbing the dried blood out of his body. The hot water calmed him down and helped him focus, but only despair and guilt were filling him. So he set his mind as he let the water flowing down his back. He had work to do.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Briggs stayed next to Kestrel all day long, talking quietly to Elena and sometimes addressing his best friend, telling him everything would be all right and urging him to heal fast and wake up soon. But his teammate didn't react, his breathing controlled by machines, and Briggs felt rage and dismay rising in him. It wasn't fair, he dimly thought. After all Kestrel had already been through during the forty years of his life, now he would've earned a happy and quiet life with his new family. But now his life was hanging by a thread.

Around 5 pm Elena got up and said:

_ I must fetch Aliosha. I will see him later.

_ Do you want me to stay with him? Briggs asked her gently.

_ No need, Elena said with a weak smile. He need rest, and coma is deep. He cannot hear yet.

_ You sure about that?

Elena pursed her lips but didn't answer, and Briggs saw she was completely upset. She had no certainties. So he rose too and told her kindly:

_ Elena, we don't know you since long, but be assured we won't let you on your own. You're Mishka's fiancée, and our family, just like him. You won't be alone. And Sam promised Mishka to take care of you. He'll keep his word.

_ Mishka... asked Sam?

Elena's eyes filled with tears, and Briggs only nodded, wanting to shove off her worry and disarray, but she had to know. So he explained:

_ Just after Fedorova shot him, he told Sam: "Daddy... Elena... My children...". So Sam promised him he would take care of you and your children. And so will I. Mishka is my best friend and like a brother to me. He saved my life so many times, we've shared so much that I can't let him and his family down.

Elena dissolved into tears, and Briggs embraced her. It was so hard, he thought as she sobbed on his shoulder. But he had to be strong. He knew Sam wasn't accepting the situation and was already depressed, so he had to step up and be the leading man. He would do all he could to help his family and support them until Kestrel woke up, or died.

As this thought crossed his mind he felt a shiver down his spine but quickly warded off the bad thought. Kestrel wouldn't die, of that he was sure. His best friend would make it. There could be no other alternative.

After a long minute Elena pulled away and took deep breaths to regain composure, then she said:

_ Thank you for everything, Briggs. Will you come tomorrow?

_ Yes, he acknowledged. I'll come. I don't know when yet, but I'll come.

_ Okay. Say hello to Molly and Rachel.

_ Will do. Molly says hello, too. And give Aliosha an extra hug.

_ He will miss his daddy so much!

This time, Briggs couldn't force down his own emotion. Kestrel had wished to adopt Aliosha as his own son, and he and Elena would have a baby together in a few months, and the ops had been so happy at this perspective! But now, everything was in jeopardy. However he soon wiped his cheeks and told Elena reassuringly:

_ Don't worry, Elena. Aliosha will have his daddy back very soon. He needs time to heal, and then he'll wake up.

_ Briggs?

She was staring at him with a devastated but firm gaze, and he only waited. The question she was going to ask would probably be painful. And predictably:

_ Has he left last wishes? Do you know what he want in case like that?

He took a deep breath, forcing down the rising emotion and fear, and said:

_ Yes, I know. Five years ago, he wrote his last will, or rather Sam wrote it for him as he dictated it. It was necessary before he had some bone marrow taken to cure James from leukaemia.

He saw Elena crying again as she murmured:

_ He is so much good man. He saved so much people!

I couldn't agree more, he thought inwardly. But he went on:

_ He told us on that occasion that if he fell into a deep coma, he wanted his life support to be switched off. And he asked Sam and me to carry out his last wills. We are his trusted persons.

She nodded and said:

_ I do not think he write something else about that. You and Sam will decide. You know him longer.

_ But we won't decide without you, Elena, Briggs told her seriously. You won't be left aside.

_ I will do what he want, she said, shooting a sad look at Kestrel and her voice breaking. Maybe he die, but if that is what he want, then we do that.

_ We'll see about that later, he said, masking his dismay. First he needs to heal.

_ Yes.

Briggs walked next to his best friend and lightly touched his arm, saying:

_ Rest, mate. Take some time for you. And fight. You need all your strength and force of will for that. But you'll soon be okay and with us. See you tomorrow, Mishka.

Then he exited the room, giving some privacy to Elena with her fiancé, and waited patiently for her. When she went out, wiping her eyes, he said:

_ Mishka's car is at my place. Would you like me to drive you so you can pick it up?

_ Yes, please, she nodded. I have keys, the nurses give it to me.

_ Good.

They set off, Briggs lost in his swirling thoughts, and in no time he was parking in front of his house. Sam's car was there too, so he would have to phone his boss about it. Elena thanked him but politely declined his offer for a drink and she sped away, obviously wanting to be with her son and go back next to Kestrel as soon as possible.

With a sigh he entered his house, remembering that the two CIA agents had asked him to call them when he would have time to discuss about the events in the morning, and decided to do it right away. Rachel soon ran into his arms, shouting delightedly:

_ Daddy! You're home!

_ Yes, darling, he said, moved. Daddy's home.

He hugged her tightly and she soon squirmed, saying:

_ Daddy! You squeeze me!

_ Sorry, darling, he said, letting her go. Daddy needed a hug.

_ Mommy told me uncle Mishka is ill, Rachel said seriously. Will he be okay soon?

_ I hope so, darling, he said, forcing down his anguish as Molly entered the hall, looking distraught. But don't worry, uncle Mishka is strong, he'll be okay very soon.

_ Good! the little girl rejoiced before running away, resuming her playing.

Briggs straightened and Molly threw herself in his arms, sobbing. He kissed her hair and hugged her tightly, sharing her worry, as she murmured:

_ It's so unfair! He won't die, will he, Isaac? Tell me he won't die!

_ I can't tell you for sure, my love, he said, his voice cracking at long last. But I don't want him to die!

He sobbed, letting out his emotions at last after containing them for a whole day, and they both wept in the hall, embracing each other as to give one another some badly needed comfort. But soon he regained composure and took deep breaths. He said gently, kissing her:

_ I love you, Molly dear.

_ I love you so much, Isaac! she said, still crying. Are you hungry?

_ Starving, he admitted, not having eaten anything since in the early morning. But I have two phone calls to make.

_ Sam? she guessed, wiping her cheeks and exhaling deeply, a hand on her swollen womb.

_ Yes, he nodded, caressing her belly and feeling a kick from his baby, making him chuckle weakly. And the CIA agents of this morning.

_ Why you, Isaac?

_ Because Sam can't do it, my love, he explained patiently. I doubt he even remembers about them. He is feeling so bad, I'm worried about him.

_ But he's with Anna, she said reassuringly. He'll be all right.

He nodded, not convinced altogether, but she pulled away and told him:

_ I'll warm the dinner, then. Go make your phone calls now.

_ Okay.

He kissed her once more then went to his office. He sat down and called the CIA guy first. The line was picked up almost immediately:

_ Agent Yamato.

_ Isaac Briggs here.

_ Ah, yes, Mr Briggs. I was waiting for your call. So, I have a few questions for you. But first, how is your friend, Mr Loskov?

_ Between life and death, he managed with a constricted voice. It's wait and see for now.

_ I'm sorry to hear it, the agent sympathised. I hope he'll get well soon.

_ Me too.

_ Now, I'd like to know exactly what you were doing at the airport this morning, if I may?

The agent's voice was back with a serious tone, even slightly angry, and Briggs decided to lay cards on the table.

_ A friend of ours told us about Fedorova being set free this morning. We are the former Fourth Echelon team.

_ That I've learned, Yamato said, a little softened. And I've also learned this Fedorova caused you much trouble before you arrested her five years ago.

_ That's a mild way to say it, Briggs said, resentment towards the awful Voron agent growing in spite of her death.

_ But why were you there?

_ We wanted to see her leaving our country, and be sure she wouldn't escape.

_ So, to get things straight, you didn't trust the CIA.

_ Not really, he admitted calmly. We've had problems five years ago with your agency, agent Yamato. Supervisory agent Zeller in Langley could tell you, if you know him.

_ Yeah, I know him. And to tell you the truth, I wouldn't trust him either.

Briggs felt a smile on his lips. Some things never changed, he thought dimly. But the CIA agent went on:

_ But that doesn't explain how you learned about it. That transferring was top secret, nobody was supposed to know.

_ If you're expecting some info from me about how we learned about it, and who told us, then I'm afraid you won't be satisfied, agent Yamato. Fourth Echelon was a powerful intel gathering agency, among other things, so let's just say we know a lot of people.

_ You don't understand, Mr Briggs. Only ten people knew about it, and it was such a classified operation that if you, whose agency has been dissolved, learned about it nevertheless, then it means that we have a deep and very dangerous security breach within the CIA. You were a CIA agent yourself, you can understand that. We have a mole within our ranks, and maybe passing much more sensible intel than this Fedorova release to who knows who.

Briggs felt uneasy. He knew the CIA agent had a point. But he also knew he couldn't betray Kestrel by giving his Russian friend Kossiak to the CIA. It had helped them a lot to be in contact with Voron, even if sometimes it was difficult to maintain the link. But what now? Briggs asked himself. Are we really out of the game? Do I tell the CIA everything and wash my hands clean?

He took a deep breath and said, making up his mind:

_ I assume you'll tell me that if I don't tell you you're going to arrest me for betraying my country?

_ No, Mr Briggs. I know I don't have to. But it would be better for you, and the rest of your team, if you could tell us indeed, so we wouldn't have to take drastic measures. But I know you and your team are very loyal people.

_ I see, he exhaled slowly. Then I can tell you the truth: I don't know.

_ What?

Briggs smiled hearing the incredulous voice in the phone. He explained:

_ We learned about it from a foreign source. So I won't be able to help you with your mole, agent Yamato.

_ Which foreign source?

_ All I can tell you is that it's an old friend of Mishka's.

_ Russia, Yamato guessed in fury. We've suspected somebody passing intel to Russia since a long time ago now.

_ Agent Yamato, Briggs said calmly, I want to make myself very clear. Mishka has already been suspected of being a spy for Russia five years ago, and cleared. By us. With full apologies from the CIA and the President of the United States Caldwell herself. And I can assure you that nothing has changed. Mishka's old ties with Russia don't mean anything else than what they are: old friendships, but nothing more. We don't have anything to do with your problem. The case of Fedorova was a special one because of what she did to us, and to Mishka in particular. I guess you've read all about it.

_ Yes, I did, Yamato said on a softened voice. And I know that Mr Loskov has conflicted relations with his former country. We have his old file, and Fourth Echelon's one. We know he's been betrayed painfully, and tortured by Voron for years. I'm absolutely certain, like the rest of the team who's investigating, that he's not a spy for Russia. Zeller was an idiot, suspecting him. Mr Loskov has proved many times since that he's a loyal American citizen who has protected his new country's interests well. Don't you worry about it, Mr Briggs.

_ Good, Briggs exhaled in relief, sensing that he could trust Yamato's word.

_ And I understand that some ties with Russia can't be severed like that, the CIA agent added, and it wouldn't be wise either. I don't ask you to tell me the name of Mr Loskov's friend, Mr Briggs, even if you knew it. And I can't ask Mr Loskov, and I won't either. But we must find the mole and arrest him or her.

_ I agree with that, he acknowledged. But I'm afraid that's all I know. And Mishka wouldn't know either, of that I'm sure. His friend didn't tell him how he learned about it. As we are from different countries, that's quite understandable, and wise.

_ Yes, it is. Well, knowing that we have to focus on Russia is a start. But where in Russia, Mr Briggs?

_ I don't know, Briggs said with a meaningful voice, but I can make a wild guess.

_ Yes? Yamato asked, catching up at once. And what would be your guess?

_ I'd say somewhere around Moscow, if I had to bet.

_ Well, thanks for guessing, Mr Briggs. Now, I have a lot of work.

_ Bye, agent Yamato.

He hung up, exhaling deeply and wondering if he had done the right thing. Maybe Kestrel would resent him having hinted to the CIA that his source was an old friend in Moscow. But he knew that he hadn't had any choice. It was either that or being arrested for treason, and Briggs certainly didn't want to be arrested after nearly twenty years serving faithfully his country. And Yamato had understood, and even hinted that keeping a link with Russia, and with Kossiak for instance, could be useful.

He sighed deeply, rubbing his face, then dialed Sam's number. The ringings echoed, but the line wasn't picked up. He called twice more, then dialed Grim's number. And she answered quickly:

_ Briggs? Was it you trying to phone Sam?

_ Yes, Grim. Isn't he there?

_ Yes, he's here, she said with a worried voice, but he's lockep up in his office again and don't want to talk to anybody, not even me. I heard the ringings through the door.

_ Give him time, he told her reassuringly. He must accept the situation, and it's very difficult for him. Mishka's between life and death because he saved him, and for Sam it's just the last straw.

_ I'm worried, Briggs, she confessed seriously. I've never seen him so depressed. He took a bottle of bourbon with him. And where is his Five-seveN?

_ In your kitchen. I put it in the top drawer of the cupboard under the oven.

_ Good, she exhaled, obviously relieved. One less thing I have to worry about.

_ I wanted to ask you when you would pick up Sam's car?

_ I'll ask him.

He heard shuffling in the phone and soon Grim's voice rose again:

_ Sam, honey? It's Briggs on the phone. He asks when we'll go fetch your car?

_ Tell him I'll go tomorrow, he heard Sam's rumble. Now I just want to be alone, my love, please.

_ Okay.

More shuffling, Briggs guessed Grim was walking back to the kitchen. And she said at last:

_ The pistol is here. Have you heard him?

_ Yes. It's okay for me, Grim. Your car doesn't bother us.

_ I'm sorry. He's not in his normal state, but he didn't sound drunk.

_ No, Briggs acknowledged. Keep an eye on him. I hope he'll be better after a good night's sleep.

_ Me too, she sighed. Well, thanks, Briggs...

_ Wait, Grim, he cut her softly. I have bothersome news.

_ Tell me, she said, steeling her voice.

_ The CIA agent I called a few minutes ago about this morning told me we've learned about Fedorova thanks to a mole within the CIA. He's going to investigate.

_ I see, she said in concern. Have you told him about Mishka's friend?

_ No. And he hinted to me that if we could keep that link it would be useful. But the matter is still sensitive.

_ That's certain, she said thoughtfully. I'll try and talk to Sam about that. Some good questions are rising now.

_ Do we keep the link with Russia if Mishka dies?

_ That, and other things. But we'll talk about all that tomorrow.

_ Okay, Grim, he sighed. Have a nice evening, then.

_ You too, Briggs. I'll call you tomorrow morning about the car. Bye.

The line went dead and he hung up, more worried than ever. The situation looked bad enough, and the worst of it was that he couldn't control anything. But at least, Briggs, he told himself firmly, you can keep control over yourself, which is quite a good thing at least.

Then, sighing deeply, he went to the kitchen and kissed Molly, hugging her tightly and caressing her belly. He needed to be with his family for a quiet evening.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When Grim woke up, she immediately knew that something was terribly wrong. She was alone in the bed, but that was normal. She dimly remembered Sam getting up around 3 am, kissing her and telling her he couldn't sleep and that he was going to watch television. It had happened before, so she hadn't been surprised. But now, the house was way too silent. She should be able to hear the sound of the television, or Sam's snores, or both. But nothing, only silence.

She got up in haste and put on a thick dressing gown, then went down the corridor towards the living room. No Sam there. She shot a look in the kitchen, nothing. Then she went to his office, and she stopped dead on the threshold, anguish and worry squeezing her chest and guts so much she wanted to throw up. An envelope was very obviously lying on the desk, with her name on it.

Trembling from head to foot, she went to pick it up and tore it open. She extracted a small sheet of paper and recognized Sam's scrawl:

"My love,

"I'm sorry to have left like that, but I need time, alone. I'll come back soon. Trust me. I'm not leaving for good, I love you too much. Just give me time. And please don't go after me.

"I love you.

"Sam

She sat hard on the chair of the desk, worry and anger fighting to take first place in her heart. How could he do this to me? she thought angrily. He knows I need him, and he needs me!

She forced herself to take a deep breath and count to twenty. Maybe he really needed some time alone to accept the situation, but in his state she knew it was madness. However it was too late to stop him, he was gone. So she checked his things and noticed that he had taken his old Fourth Echelon bag with clothes for a week, his wallet and credit cards. He had left behind his smartphone, knowing she could've tracked him with it.

With a huge sigh of frustration she made up her mind. In no way would she let him go away without knowing where he was, even if she was ready to give him the time he needed. So she hacked into their bank, quite an easy challenge for her, in spite of her lack of training, and soon saw that he had paid a cab to the airport in Baltimore around 3.15 am and made a five thousand dollars cash withdrawal in the international terminal.

She guessed he wouldn't use his credit card anymore as not to be tracked down, he was an expert at avoiding being detected, after all. He knew the game well. And he had probably paid for a plane ticket in cash, but where to?

She didn't give up. She knew he had to show his passport to board any plane, so she checked all the boarding passengers of the planes that had taken off, but she didn't see him. Then she remembered something, a little cache Sam had built in the office for emergencies. He had stocked fake passports there for him and her, and she went to dig in it. And like she thought, one of them was missing. But she never had looked at the identities on them, or even if they were American or foreign ones, so she hadn't got a clue what his pseudonym was.

She sat again, tears welling up in her eyes. He truly had planned it well, and now she had lost him. She even noticed the bottle of bourbon, intact, on the corner shelf, and understood that he had planned his trip the day before, pretending to be drinking as to be left alone.

But that simple fact reassured her. If he had been able, even in his depressed state, to resist drinking and plan a disappearance of a few days, then there was hope. The old Splinter Cell in him wasn't dead yet. And the fact that she was now at a loss to how she would find him proved to her that his capacities were intact and in working order.

So she sighed again, from impatience this time, and took out her phone. She would give him three days, but after that the hunt would start again, and this time she would find him. But she had to warn the others. She called Briggs first:

_ Hi Grim!

_ Hi Briggs! Everything's fine?

_ Yes, thanks. I've called Victor, I won't go to work today, but I'll go tomorrow. I'll be with Mishka today, and Molly will come with me for a while.

_ Good, she simply said.

_ And what about you and Sam?

_ I'll go see Mishka too, she said with a little uneasiness, but Sam won't go.

_ Why? Briggs asked in astonishment. Is he so affected?

_ I don't know, she sighed, letting out the truth at last. He disappeared this morning, Briggs. And I really don't know where he is.

_ What?

_ He left me a letter, asking for time alone. And he went to the airport with a taxi and took five thousand dollars in cash and has a fake passport. So now he could be anywhere in the world.

_ I see, Briggs said after a few seconds of silence. Then he is better than I thought.

_ Yes, that's certain, and that greatly reassures me too. But I don't like being in the dark about where he is.

_ I assume he doesn't have his smartphone?

_ No, she confirmed seriously. He's quite smart, as you know, and I really don't know what do to to find him now.

_ The security cameras at the airport? Briggs suggested.

_ Good idea, she rejoiced. I hadn't thought about those.

_ That's what's good with a team. We have more ideas than when left alone.

_ Thanks, Briggs. I'll study them right away.

_ See you at hospital later, then?

_ Yes, she acknowledged.

She hung up and went back to the computer in the office. She soon hacked into the security system of the airport and strained her eyes on the images of the screen. And after an hour she spotted Sam at last. He had been careful to put on a cap and large clothes, but she knew his walking and behaviour well enough, being with him since seven years and working with him since many more. She watched him making his cash withdrawal then buying a ticket, and waiting in a crowded area. Then he boarded a plane, and she saw it was one heading to Mexico with a stopover in Houston.

_ This isn't right, she muttered to herself. He hates Mexico.

She thought that it was probably a diversion, and sighed. The game was only beginning. The flight time to Mexico was around six hours and a half, and Sam's plane had taken off at 4.03 am. So he would be landing around 10.30 am, she calculated. She glanced at the clock on the shelf: 8.25 am. She had time.

She went to phone Charlie. He was appalled at Sam's departure, but not surprised so much about it, and told her:

_ We talked about it with Victor yesterday. He knows Sam well and compared him to a wild tiger, saying that if he were Sam, he would retreat in a far away cave and lick his wounds far from prying eyes.

_ He was absolutely right, Grim sighed. But I don't know why Mexico. That bothers me.

_ Are you certain he'll go to Mexico? Does his flight have a stopover somewhere?

_ In Houston, she realized with dread. Maybe he...

_ If I were him, Charlie said seriously, I would've left the plane there, to shake pursuers off. He can go pretty much anywhere from there.

_ I have to go! she almost shouted in rage.

_ Grim, Charlie said before she could hang up, listen! Give him a break. He'll come back. Trust him.

_ I have to go, she repeated, forcing herself to calm. Bye, Charlie.

_ Keep me posted.

She hung up and buried herself in the images of the Houston airport. Sam's plane had landed there at 7.29 am, and she spotted him among the people who disembarked. But he hadn't boarded the plane again. She followed him to a car rental company, from where he rented some vehicle, then he calmly exited the airport, knowing that no security camera would follow him with a car.

She yelled in anger and marched off the office, wanting to take a shower to let the pressure down. And the hot water did the trick. She took deep breaths and regained composure. He isn't gone for ever, she told herself sternly. He'll come back. Give him time.

She took the time to have a breakfast and enjoyed it, now she wasn't sick in mornings anymore, and felt better at last. She wasn't alone, after all. She was carrying their baby. She would wait for Sam and welcome him warmly when he came back.

Half an hour later she was behind the wheel of her van, heading towards the Bon Secours hospital. Kestrel couldn't be moved yet, so Elena had to do the trip every day. But she hoped there would be some improvement.

When she arrived, Elena and Briggs were there, on either side of the still unconscious ops. She kissed them hello, but her heart squeezed in dismay at the sight of Kestrel's thick bandages on his chest. She asked in concern:

_ Isn't he healed yet? Usually wounds like that heal in twenty-four hours with him.

_ No, he's not healed yet, Briggs answered in worry, features tightened. Looks like he's healing at a normal rhythm, which is very abnormal for him. But Elena says it's normal.

_ He is in coma, the Russian doctor explained, caressing Kestrel's hand. His brain work slow, so orders to heal slow too. I am not worry.

_ And what about the life-support machine?

_ It can't be switched off until he's healed, Briggs told her seriously. And at this rate, it'll take time.

_ How much?

_ About three weeks, Elena said calmly. That is good. He will have time to heal and wake from coma.

Grim looked intently at Kestrel's fiancée. She was calm and optimistic, and she was a doctor. If she told them Kestrel would be all right, then Grim believed her. Pity Sam couldn't hear it, she thought. She cleared her throat and said, sitting on the only remaining chair:

_ Elena, Sam won't come for a while.

_ He is away, I know, Elena nodded. He explained.

_ What? Briggs asked loudly, unfortunately not making Kestrel stir. When did he explain that?

_ This morning. He phoned me. He told he was away but he also told if I need anything he will come. And he told he will phone from time to time to have news about Mishka.

_ But...

Briggs was flabbergasted, however Grim wasn't surprised. Sam had made a promise to Kestrel, and he wasn't the guy likely to shun his responsibilities, however depressed. She only asked Elena:

_ How did he sound like? Was he okay?

_ He sounded tired but good. He told he need time.

_ Has he told you where he was going?

_ No, Elena shook her head in sympathy. He told he cannot say because he do not want you to run after him.

_ Typical Sam, Briggs muttered unhappily.

_ But he told he is sorry.

_ For what? Briggs asked, eyebrows furrowing.

_ For running away, he say he apologize to the team. And he is sorry for Mishka, and he ask me forgiveness.

_ And what did you tell him? Grim asked kindly.

_ I told him I forgive, the doctor said simply. He told what happened and said it was his fault, but I told no. Mishka is protector, he cannot let Sam killed. I know Mishka a little now, she added, turning her gaze upon her fiancée, eyes very bright. He cannot do nothing. He save people. He saved Aliosha twice, and me once. He is so much good man!

Grim silently approved as Elena, tears running down her cheeks, bent over Kestrel and kissed him, gently caressing his face. The young woman murmured some words in Russian, only for Kestrel to hear, and she took the cue. She rose and asked Briggs pointedly:

_ Do you want a coffee?

_ Yes, please, he caught up at once, jumping to his feet. Elena, do you want something?

_ No, thank you, she said weakly, not turning her head as to hide her tears.

Grim and Briggs exited the bedroom and went to the coffee machine in the nearby waiting room. She paid the drinks and they sat on quite stiff armchairs in a corner. Briggs asked her seriously:

_ Are you all right?

_ I'm fine, she sighed. This morning I was furious and worried, but now I'm better.

_ Do you know where is Sam?

_ Last I saw him he was exiting the Houston airport, having rented a car.

_ I see, he said thoughtfully. So, what now?

_ Nothing, she said, sipping her tea. I give him time, like he asked.

_ He's in contact with Elena, Briggs pointed out. He can't be too depressed.

_ No, she acknowledged in relief. That's very reassuring.

_ How much time... ?

_ I don't know, she said, thinking about it. But one week at least, I'd say. After that, we'll see.

_ We'll need him soon, Briggs said grimly. When Kestrel is healed.

_ The life support.

_ Yes.

She shot a worried look at the ops. He was trembling a little, clearly fighting underneath a heavy strain. He wasn't dealing well with the fact that he and Sam had to take a difficult decision, one that could lead to Kestrel's death. So she sat forward and told him kindly, putting a hand on his arm:

_ Briggs, Mishka asked Sam and you to be his trusted persons years ago. That's because he knew that if something happened, like now, you would both take the right decision. The decision he would've taken himself if he could. You'll only respect Mishka's will, Briggs.

_ But what if he dies, Grim? he asked with a ragged voice, clearly lost. Can I let him die like that, on a hospital's bed? He has a woman, a child and a coming baby. How can I deprive them of a husband and father?

_ That's not your decision, she insisted calmly. It's his. And he took it years ago. We can't know if he would've changed it eventually, but knowing him I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have anyway. You know how much he suffered in a coma with Voron. So when the time comes, all you and Sam are going to do is to make sure his will is done. Nothing more.

He stared at her for long seconds, and she saw anguish and disarray swirling in his eyes. But at last he nodded and said:

_ You're right. Mishka's will first. But I don't want him to die.

_ Neither do I, but he won't. He'll wake up soon.

He smiled faintly, clearly wanting to share her confidence, then they got up and went back to the bedroom. Elena had fallen asleep, her head on the bed next to Kestrel's right hand, her cheeks still wet and her eyelids puffy. Briggs picked up her coat and put it on her shoulders, but she didn't move. Grim had seen that she was exhausted.

She sat back on the chair and soon saw Briggs dozing off too. She let them sleep, watching over them, a hand on her womb and silently talking to her growing baby in there. After an hour, Elena stirred and woke up, the mark of Kestrel's sheets on her left cheek. She looked around her and spotted Grim watching her, and asked:

_ How many time... ?

_ One hour, Grim told her with a kind smile. I daresay you needed some rest.

Elena nodded, straightening, then Grim asked her:

_ How's Aliosha?

_ He is worry, she said, features tightening a little. He don't understand why his daddy is sleep and don't wake up. And the machine scare him.

_ Poor boy, Grim sympathized. If you need some time alone, I can look after him, if you want.

_ That is nice, Elena said, smiling faintly. I will see. I need him for now.

Grim then noticed that Briggs had awoken and was listening intently. He said gently:

_ Molly and I can also look after Aliosha, Elena. But I'd like to know something, if I may?

_ Go on.

_ Have you read Mishka's medical file?

Grim saw Elena nodding seriously, looking dark and worried. She asked in concern:

_ Do you believe he'll be able to wake up from his coma?

_ I think, but I cannot be sure, the young doctor confessed, eyes bright again. He lived through horrible things. But he is still alive, he is much strong.

Grim then saw that Elena had read Kestrel's file in Voron's database. She saw it clearly, and couldn't blame her. The temptation was strong, after all. She asked kindly:

_ You read his file with Voron too, didn't you?

Elena jumped a little but nodded silently, tears pouring down again. Grim only waited, knowing that the tide would soon overflow. She silenced Briggs with a meaningful stare and waited. And after a minute, Elena stammered, sobbing and hiccoughing through huge tears:

_ He told me he was betrayed and left as dead in Russia. He told me about some experiments. But I never think about how much it was for him. I knew he suffered, of course, but it was so much! I saw all his missions, all his crazy work for Voron. He was a much good agent for them, for so much years. And he was shot in head! And kept prisoner and tortured! After, I read he is mercenary, then work for Fourth Echelon. But how? How?

Grim exchanged a dark look with Briggs, knowing they couldn't avoid the explanations. She needed to know, now she knew the darkest parts of his past. She needed to know the best, and build on these. She needed to know how his life had changed for the best. So she took a deep breath and started:

_ Eight years ago, we had to find the source of some leaks from Third Echelon into Voron. Have you read about Third Echelon?

Elena simply nodded, wiping her eyes, and she went on:

_ We thought it was an OPSAT, like the one Kestrel had. But when Sam and Briggs reached the place where it was supposed to be, they saw Mishka.

She couldn't help a glance at Kestrel. He had been in a coma then, just like now. But then his life didn't rely on a life-support machine. Briggs said seriously:

_ He was in a coma, very weak, and we saw he had been awoken multiple times, probably to torture him. So we brought him with us out of this hell. We didn't know who he was. When we came back, we identified him. We saw his file and guessed he had been betrayed by his own agency. And when he woke up, he told us everything. It was difficult for him, but we needed to know. At that time we were fighting Voron. Now things are settled, for now.

_ After he recovered, Grim added, having regained composure, he went back to Russia, becoming a mercenary for a while. Taking revenge upon Voron. And while doing that, he met Alpha.

She shot a questioning look at Elena who said calmly:

_ He told about Alpha. I know he loved her much. I ask him to go to her grave with him soon.

Grim nodded, not surprised altogether. Kestrel had revealed himself to his fiancée more than she would've thought, but it was for the best. Elena was solid and down-to-earth, and not afraid of his past, which was a very good thing. So she told her the end of the quite shortened story:

_ Alpha and he fought the same enemies than us, so they joined us seven years ago. And Mishka's been with us ever since, becoming American and a full member of Fourth Echelon. He found a new identity with us, and peace. He said so himself. And he's family.

Elena nodded again, staring at Kestrel, still unaware of his surroundings. She took his hand and Grim heard her murmuring, understanding the Russian words:

_ I read all about your past, my love. And I accept it. It's in the past, now what matters is your future. I'm here, just like Aliosha, and our baby in about eight months. So heal, my love, and rest. And soon you'll be awake, and with us.

And Grim only wished that Kestrel could hear her, and would have the strength to come back.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Two weeks had passed since the dreadful events at the airport, and Briggs still didn't know if his best friend would wake up from his coma. He had gone back to work, finding it a good way to divert his bad thoughts, and went to see Kestrel in the evenings and on weekends. The ops had slowly healed from his wounds in the chest, and now the doctor had told Elena that they would stop injecting him the drugs inducing his coma.

So when Briggs entered Kestrel's bedroom on Friday morning, he wasn't surprised to see Elena, Grim and Charlie already there. He said hello and asked Elena:

_ How is he?

_ No movement for now, she said, looking a little stressed out. But it can take time. They stopped the drugs six hours ago.

She was speaking English far better now, and only her accent still betrayed her Russian roots. He then asked Grim:

_ No news from Sam?

_ None, she said, a gleam in her eyes. But I know where he is.

_ Where?

_ I've checked all our keys this morning, having lost my car's, and I noticed that Boise's chalet's one was missing. He's there, I'd bet my life.

_ That makes sense, Charlie said calmly. He wanted to be alone and have time. Just like Mishka five years ago.

_ Yeah, Briggs realized, and maybe he wanted to follow Mishka's tracks. After all, Mishka told us loud and clear how this place had brought peace in his mind.

_ True, Grim nodded. I'll phone him there. We need him back.

Briggs didn't comment, but he could see that Grim greatly missed him too. She had kept her distance, fulfilling Sam's wish to be left alone, but now she needed him. And he knew that Sam probably missed her a lot too.

Grim took out her smartphone, asking silently Elena for the go, and the doctor nodded with a smile. She dialed the chalet's number and switched on the loudspeaker. After three ringings, the line was picked up and Sam's voice rose, sounding amused:

_ Hello, my love! So you've found me at last? Took you long enough!

_ Hello, honey! she said, not really amused. It took me a long time indeed, but now we are all waiting for you. The loudspeaker is switched on, by the way.

_ I see, Sam said, and Briggs could hear his sudden concern. How are you, my love?

_ Fine, she said drily.

_ And Mishka?

_ The doctors have stopped giving him the drugs inducing his coma last night. We hope he'll wake up soon. But in the meantime, we need you here, with us. For his life support. You're Mishka's trusted person, with Briggs.

_ I'll take the first plane, Briggs heard through the loudspeaker. And my love?

_ Yes? she asked through gritted teeth.

_ Thanks for giving me time, Sam said seriously. Now I feel much better, but we'll talk about it later.

_ Okay.

_ I'll keep you posted. See you soon, my love.

_ Stay safe, Sam.

She hung up and pocketed her phone, not commenting, but Briggs could see her anger boiling just under the surface. Sam had better behave and apologize when he comes back, he dimly thought. At that instant smebody knocked on the door, and two doctors entered the crowded room. The first, Briggs recognized as the one having taken care of Kestrel, and he was the first to speak:

_ Good morning. Can I ask you all to leave us for a few minutes, please?

Briggs followed Charlie through the door, Grim behind him. He noticed that Elena had stayed behind, but she was a doctor too, after all. He asked:

_ What do you think about all this?

_ I don't like it, Charlie said immediately. But I just hope I'm wrong.

He shot a look at Grim, still seething with a well-hidden rage but that filtered in her eyes, and said:

_ Sam sounded better indeed. I hope these two weeks have helped him chase away his bad thoughts.

_ I hope so, for his sake, she finally rumbled. If he has stayed away, not giving news, not even a fucking phone call or message for two long weeks for nothing, I'll flay him alive.

Briggs chuckled uneasily, seeing well enough that she was only half-kidding, and reluctantly changed topics:

_ When will Mishka's life support be switched off, then?

_ Not before Sam's arrival, Charlie answered him with a quivering voice. He must be there with you to tell the doctors so.

Briggs nodded, still appalled at the decision he had to take for his best friend. He was so scared to provoke Kestrel's death. But on the other hand, like Grim had told him countless times since two weeks, he would only respect Kestrel's will.

A few minutes passed, then the door behind them opened and the two doctors exited the bedroom. The first one addressed them:

_ You can go back and see Mr Loskov.

_ How is he, doctor? Grim asked with a tense voice.

_ We can only say good for now, Ms. He's still not reacting, but we'll monitor him closely from now on. And of course, we hope he'll be okay when his life support is switched off. When will Mr Fisher come?

_ He should be here tomorrow, she said with a sullen voice. He's at the other end of the country, he'll take a plane today.

_ Then we'll see him tomorrow morning, I expect, the doctor said. The sooner we do it, the better.

_ For whom? Briggs asked gloomily.

_ For all of you, the doctor said sympathetically. But most of all for Mr Loskov. It's better for him to live and breathe without assistance. And if he dies, then it would've been cruel to let him live tied to a machine for who knows how much more time for nothing, knowing he couldn't go in peace.

Briggs dimly nodded, agreeing with the doctor's point of view, and the two men left. He followed Grim and Charlie back into the bedroom and saw Elena talking to Kestrel in his ear, kissing him and gripping his hand. She was looking calm and good, but Briggs could see some disarray in her grey eyes. Whatever background experiences she had had before, it was new for her to have a person so close to her heart in this state.

As they sat down around the bed Grim's phone beeped once. She took it out and read aloud the message:

_ Plane takes off in an hour. Arrival in Baltimore 5.02 pm local time. Wait till tomorrow for life support please. Need to talk to Mishka. Love you. Sam.

She pocketed her phone and looked at Elena. The young woman nodded and said:

_ We will switch the machine off tomorrow. Aliosha need to see his daddy.

Briggs's heart squeezed in dismay. Aliosha was at his place since the day before, Molly was looking after him, giving Elena time to be with Kestrel. And she added, fighting her rising emotion:

_ He still don't understand, and ask when his daddy will wake up. I cannot tell him maybe his daddy will die.

She broke into silent tears and Grim went next to her, hugging her. Briggs focused back on his best friend, still connected to his machine and a large tube stuck down his throat to make him breathe. Other tubes were connected to the crook of his elbows, feeding and hydrating him, and some electrodes monitoring his heartbeat, his cerebral activity, his breathing rhythm, etc...

He rose and went next to Kestrel, opposite Elena and Grim. He lightly touched his best friend's arm and said:

_ Hi, mate! We'll soon have you freed from this bulky machine breathing for you. Tomorrow. So it would be a good thing if you could brace yourself and gather your strength for that. You'll have to breathe alone after that. But first, Sam wants to talk to you. He was in Boise but he's coming back. That's good, isn't it?

He surveyed his best friend's face and hands: no movement. No reaction on the screen monitoring his vitals. Briggs' chest filled with lead but he said nevertheless, trying to steady his wavering voice:

_ Rest, mate. We all trust you to stay with us and wake up soon. We'll stay around you.

He backed a few steps and sat back on his chair, forcing down his worry. He had to be strong, and believe in his best friend. He wouldn't die. He couldn't die. He would stay alive.

A ringing in Elena's pocket jarred him out of his thoughts and he watched her taking out Kestrel's smartphone. She said, frowning:

_ Igor. Who is Igor?

_ Kossiak, Briggs said at once. Voron's commander. Answer him.

Hesitantly she picked up the line, switching on the loudspeaker:

_ Yes?

_ Oh, Briggs heard Kossiak's surprised voice. Can I talk to Mishka, please?

_ I...

Elena looked at the Fourth Echelon team, visibly lost and afraid, and Briggs rose. He gently took the phone and said calmly:

_ Hello, Igor Dmitrovich. It's Isaac Briggs.

_ Hello, Isaac Briggs, Kossiak said, more and more bewildered. I didn't expect to speak to you. Where is Mishka?

_ In hospital, Briggs said. Between life and death since two weeks ago.

_ What? He's the man shot by Fedorova?

_ Unfortunately yes. He shielded Sam and took three bullets in the chest. Now he's in a coma and a machine makes him breathing. We'll switch off his life support tomorrow.

_ Will he die? Kossiak asked with worry.

_ We don't know.

Silence fell on the line, allowing Briggs to take a deep breath and regain composure. He couldn't fall to pieces now. He asked:

_ You really didn't know about him?

_ No. I learned about what happened at the airport, but my man couldn't give me specifics about the victim. Curse that bitch! I'm happy she's dead, but if it is at that price...

Briggs waited patiently. He knew that for Kossiak the news were quite a shock, but also that Voron's commander probably wanted to talk about something else to Mishka. And sure enough:

_ Isaac Briggs, about the CIA...

_ Yes?

_ They know about my man within their ranks. I've been able to rescue my agent just in time. But how did they learn about it?

_ We didn't tell them, if that's what you think, Briggs assured him. We didn't even know your source of intel belonged to the CIA. You didn't tell Mishka about it. But because of our presence in the airport, they probably added two and two.

_ I see, Kossiak said simply. You didn't trust them with keeping Fedorova in check?

_ No, Briggs admitted. We've had some conflicts with them in the past, and some deep mistrust is still running. We wanted to be sure she would board the plane and not be able to escape her fate.

_ She didn't, in the end, Kossiak said sullenly, but Mishka paid the price for it. He had told me he didn't want to set eyes on her ever again.

Briggs' lungs tightened in dismay, but he forced down his emotion. Kossiak wasn't his friend, he was an old adversary. He couldn't tell him too much. He simply said:

_ We don't have anything to do with your man being uncovered, Igor Dmitrovich. We have much more important things to deal with here.

_ I trust your word, Isaac Briggs, Kossiak said after a few seconds of silence. But know that if Mishka dies, then our contacts will stop. I still phone him from time to time because he's a very old friend of mine, but nothing else. And all the more since Fourth Echelon has been dissolved. But Voron will leave you all alone, that I can promise you.

_ Thanks, Igor Dmitrovich, Briggs said seriously.

_ Wish Mishka well for me, and take care, Isaac Briggs.

_ You too, Igor Dmitrovich.

_ And Isaac Briggs? The CIA knows about Mishka's abilities. I called for that. Fedorova told them everything.

The line went dead, and Briggs gave back the smartphone to Elena who pocketed it with an uneasy smile. He told her soothingly:

_ Igor Kossiak is a man we can trust, even if he's Russian and us American. If he says we'll be left alone, we can believe it.

_ Absolutely, Grim confirmed with a smile. He's always been a loyal adversary. But what worries me is the CIA knowing about Mishka.

_ Yeah, Briggs said with deep concern. But what can they do?

_ They won't approach Mishka, Elena said firmly, eyes sparking with restrained fury. We talked about that days ago, and I promised him I would protect him. I'm his doctor, I will defend him from the CIA.

_ We'll be there to help you, Elena, Grim told her calmly. They'd better keep their distance, and even more when Sam comes back.

Briggs saw Elena nodding gravely, a protective hand on Mishka's one and her eyes riveted on him. The ops, apparently unaware of what was happening around him, didn't react.

The day passed quite slowly. Charlie left around 2 pm, too put out to stay anymore and telling them he would be there the following morning. Molly brought Aliosha with her at 4 pm, and Briggs saw the poor boy's worry when he asked in timid Russian, caressing Kestrel's arm:

_ Daddy? Daddy, can you wake up?

_ It's difficult for Daddy, Elena explained to him, hugging him. He's in a deep sleep, sweetheart. He needs time to wake up.

_ But I want to see him awake! Aliosha cried. I need my Daddy!

_ I know, sweetheart, his mother said, kissing him and tears falling. Tell him.

_ Daddy! Daddy! Wake up! Wake up, Daddy!

Briggs surveyed his best friend's reactions, and saw none. He wondered if Kestrel would wake up, or even survive when his life support would be switched off, and he exchanged a gloomy look with Grim, squeezing hard Molly's hand. Things weren't looking bright for the close future, and he dreaded it.

Shortly after that Grim left for the airport, and Molly offered Elena to look after Aliosha again. The doctor accepted, still upset, and told her son to kiss his daddy goodbye. So Aliosha, kneeling on the bed, bent over Kestrel and hugged him after a kiss on the cheek. He said again:

_ Wake up, Daddy. Please.

Briggs took a deep breath to force down his tears as Aliosha hugged his crying mother, then exited the room with Molly, very affected too. Elena wasn't hiding her worry anymore, and she took Kestrel's hand, murmuring:

_ Wake up, my love, please. We need you. Please don't leave us.

She was gently caressing his cheek, kissing him and telling him she loved him, and Briggs, heart weighing a ton, could only watch in silence, fighting to keep his emotion inside.

Around 5.30 pm, somebody knocked on the door. Thinking that it could be Sam and Grim, Elena said calmly to come in. But when the door opened, Briggs saw two agents in black suits and two doctors, looking grim. One of them was Kestrel's one, Dr Parks, but the other, Briggs recognized as Dr Korjev, the CIA's one. They entered the room and Dr Parks said seriously:

_ Dr Rykova, these gentlemen are there to take some samples from Mr Loskov.

_ Why? Elena asked, rising and walking next to Briggs who had risen too.

_ We've learned that Mr Loskov's life-support will soon be switched off, Dr Korjev explained, looking ill-at-ease, and that some of his capacities could be interesting to study.

_ For what? Briggs asked, rather aggressively. For whom?

_ Sir, one of the agents said calmly, we have strict orders, and a warrant from a judge.

_ Nobody will take anything, Elena said, shaking with fury but keeping her voice under control. My fiancé won't be studied like a guinea pig.

_ Ms Rykova, the agent said, still calm. I understand it's difficult, but like I said, we have orders and the right to do it.

_ What right? a familiar voice rumbled behind them.

Briggs turned towards the door and saw that Sam and Grim had arrived. Just in time, he thought. The Splinter Cell, looking appeased but frowning in concern, shot a look at the four men and repeated:

_ What right?

_ Mr Fisher, the second agent said with a more respectful tone, we have orders to take some samples from Mr Loskov.

_ And who gave you that order?

_ I can't tell you.

_ No?

Briggs saw Sam entering the room, shaking his hand and kissing Elena, then he and Grim went next to them, shielding Kestrel. He said seriously:

_ And I can tell you that you won't take anything from my son. He doesn't want to be studied, and as he can't oppose you, Briggs and I will do it. We are his trusted persons.

_ Mr Fisher, the first agent said quite angrily, we have a warrant from a judge, and...

_ Can I see that warrant? Grim cut him sharply.

Fuming, the agent took out a sheet of paper and handed it to Grim who arched an eyebrow.

_ Judge Sanders? How odd. I'll phone him right away.

_ But...

She ignored the agent and exited the room, smartphone in hand. Left alone to wait, Briggs shot a sideways glance at Sam. His old boss looked far better than two weeks ago, his eyes were clear but fierce, focusing on the two CIA agents who were shuffling on their feet, uneasy. Dr Korjev asked with real concern:

_ How is Mr Loskov?

_ Still in a coma, Dr Parks answered, obviously happy to change the subject. We're waiting for any sign of him waking up.

_ That's sad, Dr Korjev said, glancing at the ops. I remember him five years ago, staying conscious for long minutes in spite of a knife jutting out of his back. A tough man. Such a pity.

_ He's not dead yet, Sam grumbled in anger.

_ You're right, Mr Fisher, Dr Parks acknowledged. We'll see tomorrow.

A few tense minutes passed in silence, Briggs eyeing the CIA agents with growing resentment, then Grim went back into the room. She said, holding out her phone:

_ I'm with them. Now, could you please repeat what you told me, Judge Sanders?

_ With pleasure, a gruff voice rose through the loudspeaker. I was saying that this was crazy, and that if I could I'd come and have these CIA agents arrested faster than you can say "judge".


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Sam, although feeling far better than two weeks ago thanks to his stay in Boise, was feeling a tingling sensation in his guts, a growing heat he knew only too well. Fury was swelling in him at so high an amount that he feared he would lose control and attack these CIA bastards. Here he was, just back from two peaceful weeks spent to work on himself and his depressed state, happy to see his team and family again, and he had to protect Kestrel from some CIA lunatics who wanted to study him like he was some sort of guinea pig, an interesting specimen.

He balled his fists while waiting for Grim, and when he heard the judge's answer, he couldn't help a nasty grin spreading on his face. The guy must be in a frenzy because he started to yell in Grim's phone:

_ How could this ever be possible? I've never signed any warrant for such a madness! If any of my assistants have signed it for me, he or she will be fired in the next five minutes! And if the CIA abused of my status to pretend they had the right to take medical samples, I'll have the skins of the irresponsible assholes who dared do so outraging a thing! I'll start an inquiry about that right now, and we'll soon know who's behind all this!

_ Judge Sanders, the second agent said tentatively, red from confusion and sweating while his colleague was turning pale, we only follow orders...

_ From whom? the judge bellowed. What's your name?

_ Special agent Richards, and special agent Morrison with me. We were ordered here with this warrant by supervisory agent Hawkins.

_ Hawkins, huh? He's dead, you hear me? I never signed any warrant for him! On what legal basis? Mr Loskov isn't a national threat, nor a criminal, so the CIA has no right to take anything from him. And all the more if Mr Loskov isn't conscious and cannot answer some questions you would have to ask him. What do you want from him?

_ Some samples, the second agent said after a few seconds and clearing his throat as his colleague looked on the verge of fainting. Medical ones.

_ And what for?

_ Mr Loskov apparently has extraordinary abilities, so agent Hawkins think it a good thing to learn more about them.

_ And use them at whose profit? the judge asked with a harsh voice.

_ I... I don't know...

_ I do. Agent Hawkins is friends with some four-star generals in the Army. He's gonna regret having broken some laws to do all this. And he's gonna regret having chosen to cross me. I'll call the Supreme Court right away, we'll soon see what they think about all this.

_ Judge Sanders...

_ Not a word, agent Richards! You're lucky I won't press charges against you and agent Morrison! Now get out of this hospital and tell agent Hawkins that if he tries to do anything else I'll hang his skin behind my seat in court as a trophy. I shall see him very soon about all this.

_ Okay, Richards trembled, to Sam's deep satisfaction.

Grim hung up, a wide grin on her face, and Sam said calmly:

_ Looks like you've played an insane game, guys. Now get out of here before Briggs and I teach you how we deal with scum like you.

The CIA agents hurriedly left the room, and Dr Korjev said shamefully:

_ I'm sorry I've been involved in such a masquerade. I hope Mr Loskov will get well soon.

_ Thanks, doc, Briggs said.

_ Bye.

He left, followed by a relieved Dr Parks, and Sam turned towards Kestrel at long last. He went right next to him, sitting on the armchair on his left, and said calmly:

_ Hello, sonny! It's Sam. I'm back from Boise.

His gaze lingered sadly on the machines and screens around him, indicating that Kestrel was still unresponsive, and suppressed a sigh. He had to believe in his ops. So he went on:

_ I spent two weeks there, and I can tell you it's been difficult. I was away from everyone I loved, and it wasn't easy.

He crossed Grim's moved stare and silently apologized again. It had been the first thing he had told her when coming in front of her in the airport terminal, "I'm sorry". And she had simply nodded, then slapped him out of anger and frustration. But right after that she had thrown herself into his arms, and they had made peace. They hadn't talked much, but he had told her how much he loved her and had missed her. He focused back on the present moment.

_ But now I'm here, sonny. I feel much better, and I can tell you you were right. The chalet really brings peace in your heart. I've experienced it, and now I understand why you love this place so much. I can't wait to go back there with Grim, and with all our family. And I want you to go there too, with Elena and Aliosha.

He put a hand on Kestrel's arm and said, his voice unsteady for the first time since he came back:

_ Tomorrow Briggs and I will tell the doctors to remove this big tube from your throat and switch off the machine helping you breathing. But I trust you to stay with us, sonny. Your time hasn't come yet. You still have so much to live, and your baby to meet in a few months.

He took a deep breath, forcing down the sobs, and said:

_ Family is everything, that's what I've learned during these last two weeks. And I don't want to lose a son. So fight, Mishka! Wake up, and brace yourself. You'll have to be strong tomorrow. But rest in the meantime.

He stopped at last, throat constricted with choked tears, and looked around him. Grim and Elena were crying silently, and Briggs was biting hard his lip. But Sam soon got a grip. He had to be strong, show the man he loved as a son that he was there for him, until the end.

The evening passed by, only cut by a sandwich hastily eaten, then the waiting started. Sam didn't want to leave Kestrel. He wanted to be next to him, like a real father, and support him, even silently. Grim and Briggs went home to have some rest, but Elena stayed next to her fiancé. She soon fell asleep on her armchair, her hand still holding Kestrel's right one, but Sam couldn't sleep. He didn't want to miss any single moment with Kestrel, knowing that this night could be his last.

And when the sun rose in the horizon, light filtering through the shutters, Sam felt a huge knot of worry squeezing his chest. He knew the time was coming, and only wanted to stop it. But maybe it would turn good. Maybe Kestrel would survive. He surprised himself praying a God he didn't know, murmuring:

_ Please don't let him die! Please let him live!

And much too soon Elena woke up, and Grim, Briggs and Charlie arrived. All of them had small eyes and sad expressions, hope only half-present in them. Elena talked to Kestrel a long time in Russian with a calm and soft voice, telling him everything would be all right and that she, Aliosha and the baby loved him. Then she went for a coffee, not hiding her fear anymore, and Grim went with her.

Then Charlie and Briggs each talked to Kestrel in an undertone, only for the ops to hear, and Sam knew that it was a sort of farewell, just in case. Then it was his turn, and he was left alone in the bedroom. So he bent over Kestrel and said:

_ Maybe all these people talking to you like that worry you, sonny, but don't be afraid. You won't die. I know it. You've always been too strong to die from wounds. No, I hope you'll die peacefully at a ripe old age, in your bed at home, with grandchildren around you. Now's not the time. I trust you to stay a little longer, sonny.

He lightly squeezed Kestrel's hand and said, his voice cracking at last:

_ But if you die nevertheless, know that I love you as my own son, Mishka. And I'll hold my promise. I'll take care of your family. But I'd like you to stay with us, sonny. Please stay, I beg you. Fight, sonny!

He wiped his cheeks just as the door opened after a quick knock, and Dr Parks entered, followed by a nurse, Elena, Grim, Briggs and Charlie. Sam rose and backed a step as the doctor went in front of him. The nurse went on the other side of the bed, ready to take out Kestrel's tube. The doctor said calmly:

_ Mr Loskov, I'll ask your trusted persons what you would do, to respect your will.

He turned and asked Sam and Briggs:

_ Do Mr Loskov want his life support to be switched off?

_ Yes, Sam said, fighting to get the word out of his tightened throat.

_ Yes, Briggs' hollowed voice echoed.

_ Do we switch it off now?

_ Yes, Sam and Briggs murmured.

_ Mr Loskov, the doctor said as Elena went next to the nurse, crying and taking Kestrel's hand. We'll switch off the machine helping you breathing.

He nodded at the nurse who started to take the tube out, and the doctor turned several buttons off. The machine stopped, and soon Kestrel was free of his tube. His mouth stayed open, and Sam watched anxiously the screen showing his vitals. No breathing. Worse, his cardiac rhythm was plummeting fast.

Opposite him Elena kissed her fiancé, caressing his face, and said calmly, her voice broken:

_ Mishka, come back with us, please! We need you. Take your time to wake up, but please breathe! We love you!

Sam, crying openly like everyone else, watched the cardiac rhythm decreasing again until it nearly stopped. Two minutes had passed since the machine had been switched off. Elena called him out again in Russian, sobbing:

_ Mishka! Stay with me! Please, my love! I need you! I love you!

Then suddenly, Kestrel's chest heaved a little. It was such a faint movement that Sam wondered if he had dreamed about it. But no, he hadn't dreamed! Kestrel's cardiac rhythm increased as a new line appeared on the screen, his breathing rhythm, and Sam remembered to breathe too. Then Kestrel inhaled calmly, a small breath but the essential one, and Sam burst into tears of joy.

Grim went next to him and they hugged as Kestrel inhaled deeper and deeper breaths, making Sam smile through his tears. Elena was saying:

_ Good, my love. Breathe calmly, that's good. Take your time. I love you.

Sam, relieved beyond anything he had ever known, watched the doctor and the nurse leave the room, and he went back next to his ops. He told him happily:

_ You've made the hardest part, sonny. Rest for now. And soon you'll wake up. I trust you to wake up very soon.

He shot a look at Elena who smiled, very obviously relieved and happy. Charlie and Briggs were half-laughing through huge tears of emotion, and Grim simply kissed him. Mishka was alive. All was well. Now they would only wait for his awaking, and everything would be perfect.

_ So, what now? Briggs asked Elena, having regained composure and grinning broadly.

_ Now we wait, Elena said calmly, wiping her cheeks and still stroking Kestrel's ones. He needs time. He can wake up at any moment, or never.

That last word put a neat damper on the rising spirits, and Sam gently pulled away from Grim. He asked:

_ He really could never wake up?

_ He is alive, Elena said seriously, and he is breathing alone. But that doesn't mean his brain is alive. Maybe he is not conscious of what is around him. Maybe he will stay in a coma for years, or the rest of his life. No one knows, except him.

Sam stared at Kestrel, his relief slowly fading. Could this victory over death have been for nothing? he wondered. Would Kestrel stay in a coma for years, not being able to wake up or die?

_ I'm sure he'll wake up soon, Grim said at last, sounding confident. He proved to us that he was still fighting. For my part, I'm certain he can hear us and will wake up soon.

_ Me too, Briggs said, trying to sound upbeat. He's strong, he'll come out of it.

Sam didn't comment. He didn't want to be too pessimistic, but he noticed that Charlie, like him, was in doubt. Finally, after another half-hour, Charlie rose and said:

_ I'll meet Andrea for lunch. Will you keep me posted?

_ Of course, Charlie, Briggs said, rising too. And I'll go home too. Elena? What about Aliosha?

_ Can I fetch him tomorrow afternoon? she asked. I think I'll have Mishka go back home.

_ Yes, of course. It's a pleasure.

_ He can go home? Sam asked her.

_ I think so, she acknowledged. Now he doesn't need life support anymore, he can be home with us. I will look after him, and I will ask a nurse to watch over him when I work.

_ Molly would've been delighted to do that, Briggs said dejectedly. She'll be most deceived when I tell her.

_ Why couldn't she do it? Grim asked curiously.

_ I don't know, Briggs said, thinking about it. She's pregnant, and...

_ Maybe she could do it, Elena said with a faint smile. She won't have to clean Mishka up, I'll do it before going to work. It would only be watching over him. But what about Rachel?

_ Molly's parents are always complaining that they don't see her often enough, Briggs said with a little smile. I'll ask her, if you want.

_ Please, Elena nodded. I need to know fast, I work on Monday.

_ I'll phone you in an hour.

_ Okay.

Charlie and Briggs left, and Sam exchanged a look with Grim. She looked tired and weary, she needed a hot bath and a quiet afternoon after all these emotions. And he himself was exhausted and needed some sleep. So he got to his feet and said:

_ We'll go home too if it's okay, Elena.

_ It is, Sam. Thank you for everything.

_ Don't mention it. I only wish Mishka will wake up soon.

_ Me too.

_ I'll phone you tomorrow, if it's okay, to have some news.

_ Okay for me, she said with a kind gaze. Bye.

_ Bye, Elena.

Grim embraced the Russian doctor, then she and Sam exited the bedroom. Holding hands, they made their way to Grim's car, and Sam insisted to drive her. She didn't complain much and was soon dozing off on the passenger seat. Sam, although his eyelids were growing heavier and heavier, forced himself to focus on the road, and soon he parked in front of their house. He turned towards Grim and gently caressed her cheek.

_ My love? We're home.

She slowly opened her eyes, looking sleepy and exhausted, and murmured:

_ I need a nap, honey.

_ So do I, Sam said, yawning widely and relaxing now they had arrived safely. Let's go, my love.

Together they went inside and headed straight for their bedroom. Grim collapsed on the bed and was asleep within three seconds. Sam took the time to take a blanket and covered her with it, then put out his pullover and lay down next to her under the blanket. He was so tired he wasn't hungry and fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

When he slowly woke up, it was late afternoon, or rather early evening. The sun was nearly set and the bedroom was dark around him. He noticed that he was lying on his back and Grim had settled in the crook of his shoulder, her arm across his chest, and she was still sleeping peacefully. He watched her for long and blissful minutes, enjoying her warmth and her closeness. He had missed her terribly during the last two weeks, but it had been necessary. He had needed to be alone to heal.

And now he was back, he was happy to be with her. She had a cute way of exhaling when asleep, and her hair was covering half of her face, but she had never been so pretty. He loved her with a love so strong he could move mountains for her. And she was carrying their baby, their treasure. He had to take care of her, more than ever.

Carefully he crawled out of bed and she mumbled indistinctly, but she stayed asleep. He covered her again with the blanket then exited the room, heading for the kitchen. His head was spinning a little, quite messed up from the long nap and the lack of sleep the night before. But he was hungry, and so would be Grim.

He set to work, knowing that she wanted to eat a lot of meat, and cooked some beef ravioli, her favourite delicacy. And when the little meatballs were ready, a delicious aroma was wafting up in the air. And soon enough, he heard her coming towards the kitchen. When she entered, she was disheveled and looking half-asleep, but she asked in a daze:

_ Meatballs?

_ Ravioli, my love, he said, suppressing a smile before her hungry stare. Dinner's ready.

_ Thank you, honey.

She kissed him and sat down at the table. He offered her the dish and she largely helped herself, wolfing down the ravioli as if she hadn't eaten in a week. Amused, he sat down next to her and helped himself, but she soon emptied her plate and grabbed the dish again. He chuckled before her hungry expression and said:

_ You look famished, my love. Have you eaten correctly while I was away?

_ Yes, Sam, she said through large forks of ravioli. But I've missed your cooking.

_ And I've missed you, he told her kindly.

She stopped eating and locked eyes with him, eyes bright. He realized that she had taken a lot upon herself not to show how she had been lost and unhappy without him, but now it dawned on him that it had been very difficult for her to let him go and leave him alone. He gently took her hand and said:

_ Thank you, my love. I'm sorry to have left like that. But I needed it so much! Now I'm much better, and I'll never leave you again. I promise.

_ I hope so, honey, she said, obviously fighting her rising emotion. And I hope it was worth it.

_ It was, he stated calmly. Believe me, it was. I'm back on my feet.

_ Good, she said, diving back into her plate. Because I won't stand something like that anymore, Sam. I need you too much.

_ I need you too, my love. And I need you to be next to me so I can take care of you and our baby.

_ By the way, I'll have the first ultrasound scan in three days, on Tuesday, she told him, eating the last ravioli and sighing in contentment. I do hope you'll come with me.

_ Of course I'll come! he rejoiced, grinning. I want to meet my little baby!

She beamed at him and they kissed, then had some ice cream. But soon Grim's eyelids were drooping again, so he led her to their bedroom and they went to bed together. He was still exhausted and thought they would fall asleep quickly, but she surprised him by arousing him, and he surprised himself by responding with great energy. And only after half an hour of fiery lovemaking did they drift into sleep, still hugging tightly.

The ringing of his phone woke him up abruptly and he started in his bed, then groped for the bloody thing on the nightstand. It had better be something important, he thought with a groan while fighting to open his eyes and hearing Grim grumbling vaguely. While finding the thing at last he saw that it was 5.48 am and sighed in anger. But when he saw the ID of the caller, he only felt dread.

_ Elena? Everything's all right?

_ Hello, Sam, the young doctor said, sounding worried. I am sorry to wake you up, but...

_ Mishka? Is he all right?

_ Yes, don't worry. He is home now, but he is still in a coma. No, I phone for another thing. Something bad.

_ Tell me, he said, sitting up and rubbing his face, a chill down his spine.

_ A man called on Mishka's phone. A Russian guy, named Jdan. He told me he is the new Voron commander.

_ What about Igor Kossiak? Sam asked in concern.

_ This Jdan told me that Igor Kossiak has been killed yesterday, she said with a trembling voice. By the CIA.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hi everyone! I'm afraid the rhythm of the updates will be longer than before from now on, as I have a tighter schedule to write. But I'm keeping the work, don't worry! Now we're reaching the heart of the plot, so I hope you'll like it! And please write me a review to tell me what you think about all this! **

Chapter 11

_ What?

Sam couldn't believe his ears. Kossiak, dead? The nightmare was continuing, it was a catastrophe. Next to him, Grim sat up in alarm and gestured at him to switch on the loudspeaker. He obliged.

_ How did it happen?

_ Jdan told me that he only wanted to tell Mishka as he was an old friend of his and Igor's, Elena said, panicking, and I told him about Mishka in a coma. He told me Igor Kossiak has been ambushed in his house. He, his pregnant wife and two children have had... their throat cut...

Grim hastily rose and ran to the bathroom, and the next second Sam heard her vomiting violently. Feeling sick himself, he took a deep breath and asked with a queasy voice:

_ How can Voron be sure it's the CIA?

_ Because the murderer is the CIA mole, Elena stammered with difficulty. Jdan told me Kossiak had rescued him before he could be arrested, but now it looks like the guy had a mission. He had been turned, and had to kill Voron's commander.

_ Voron has him in custody?

_ No, he has been shot by Kossiak's bodyguard. But it was too late.

_ And now we have a war brewing between the CIA and Voron, Sam summed up darkly.

_ I fear so, Elena said. Jdan wanted Mishka to help him smoothe things out, but when he learned about him in a coma, he asked me to call you.

_ Why me? the Splinter Cell wondered. Fourth Echelon is no more, I'm retired. I can't do anything about it.

_ He told me you are the only American agent Russia has ever respected, aside from Mishka of course. And Mishka being with you for all these years, and the things you've done to help Voron, all this he said were good reasons to ask you to be their Ombudsman.

_ I see, he only said as Grim went back into the room, very pale but her eyes shining in anger. So what can I do?

_ I have his phone, Elena said. He asked me to tell you to call him if you can.

_ I will. Give me the number.

He hastily took a pen and a sheet of paper from the chest of drawers and scribbled the number, then asked:

_ Are you okay, Elena?

_ I cannot say yes, she admitted, but with a calmer tone. But Mishka is with me, Aliosha will be too. I will be okay soon.

_ Mishka will be devastated to learn about Kossiak's death, Sam said. He was an old friend of his, one of the last Russian ones.

_ He needs to wake up first.

_ No sign of awakening?

_ None.

_ Okay, Sam said, heart heavier. Thanks a lot, Elena. I'll call Jdan.

_ Good luck, Sam.

He hung up and exchanged a look with Grim. She had grabbed a few clothes and was about to take a shower, but she said grimly:

_ Kossiak was a good guy. And Mishka's friend. We can't let Voron and the CIA have a war, it would be a disaster. And it could lead to another mad leadership like with Avilov.

_ Yeah, and we can't save the Russian president's skin anymore, Sam said dejectedly. Please call Briggs and Charlie, my love. Tell them to come here in an hour.

_ Will do, Sam.

She left the room and he dialed the number Elena had given him. After two ringings the line was picked up:

_ Привет ? ( _Hello?)_

_ Hello, Mr Jdan, he said calmly in English. I don't have the honour to know your name yet, please forgive me. I'm Sam Fisher.

_ Sam Fisher, the man said with a deep and calm voice, sounding relieved. I'm happy to see that Mishka's wife has called you. She seems nice. I'm Georguiy Antonovich Jdan.

_ It's an honour, Georguiy Antonovich, Sam said, using the Russian way to call his interlocutor. I was very sorry to hear about Igor Dmitrovich. It's horrible.

_ Yes, it is. And all the more since it's an American traitor who butchered him and his family.

_ The CIA mole was American?

_ Yes. Elijah Yashvili, born from Georgian parents. We convinced him to pass us info since ten years ago, but it looks like he double-crossed us. Bastard!

_ It's horrible, Sam repeated, wanting to stay calm in spite of his rising anger. But what can I do?

_ I'd like you to make sure the CIA is behind this, Jdan said seriously.

_ What do you mean?

_ You know we can't let such a murder unpunished. And I'm certain Yashvili was acting on orders. I want to know whose orders.

_ And why would I do that? I don't want any other death, especially an American one, you can understand that.

_ Yes, but my men are in a frenzy. They're calling for blood. And from what I know, there are around twenty American spies actually in Russia that we know of. These men are in death peril. I do all I can to avoid their killing, but I don't have Kossiak's authority yet. So I'd rather have a single name than a carnage in Russia.

_ I see, Sam said, lungs filling with lead. I'll see what I can do, but I'd rather avoid any killings.

_ So would I, Sam Fisher. Please hurry.

_ I will.

The line went dead and Sam got up, head spinning from worry. Retired, Fisher? he snorted inwardly. Not likely.

He took a hasty shower and shaved while Grim had one. Briggs and Charlie would soon be there. They had a quick breakfast and the doorbell rang as he was pouring them some coffee. He went to open and Briggs and Charlie entered, looking dark.

_ Thanks for coming, boys, Sam told them, shaking hands. Coffee?

_ Please, Charlie said, looking half-asleep.

_ For me too, Briggs nodded. The alarm clock was quite harsh.

_ Sorry about that, Sam said as they sat down in the kitchen. But there's an emergency.

_ Just a question, Sam, Charlie said, sipping the boiling coffee Grim had poured him. Aren't we retired? Fourth Echelon is dissolved, isn't it?

_ True enough, sonny, Sam said, rubbing his face. But we have a war to prevent.

_ Again? Charlie complained. Why us?

_ Because it's about Voron, Grim said.

Sam saw all eyes fixing on him. So he explained the situation and his conversation with Jdan. The looks of horror and revolt on the faces were explicit enough and matched his own. At last Briggs said:

_ Let me get this straight. The CIA mole agent Yamato told me about has been rescued just before being arrested here in the US by Kossiak and shipped back to Russia. There he killed Kossiak and his family, probably on CIA's orders. And now, Voron wants the head of his boss.

_ That's about it.

_ That doesn't make sense, Grim said.

_ I agree, Briggs said. Agent Yamato was furious about the mole. They couldn't turn him within two weeks, that's impossible.

_ A third party must be involved, Sam guessed. The one who ordered Yashvili to kill Kossiak. But who?

_ Who would want the CIA and Voron at war? Charlie wondered.

_ Wait a minute, Briggs said, dread on his features. What if Fedorova had been used too?

_ You mean... Sam started, appalled.

_ What if somebody suggested to Kossiak we learned about her release? And convinced her to kill one or more of us, in a last glorious stand? To take revenge upon us.

_ But Mishka told Kossiak he didn't want to see Fedorova again, Sam objected. How could they have known we would be there?

_ Because they probably know us, Grim said gloomily. They know you, Sam, and how you would react. They must have known we wouldn't trust the CIA.

Sam's jaws tightened. If this theory was true, then he had fallen right into a trap, and because of that Kestrel had almost died and was now in a coma. His fists clenched and he tried to keep his cool, but it was very hard. Grim visibly saw it because she said:

_ We must contact Yamato. And find who's behind all this.

_ I have his number, Briggs said.

_ Call him, Sam told him. We must meet him ASAP.

Briggs nodded and took out his smartphone. He dialed a number and at the last ringing a sleepy voice rose through the loudspeaker:

_ Yes?

_ Agent Yamato? Sorry to wake you up. Isaac Briggs here.

_ Mr Briggs? the agent said in surprise. What can I do for you on an early Sunday morning?

_ Sorry again, but we have twenty American spies' lives to save, Briggs said seriously.

_ What?

_ You heard me.

A few seconds of tense silence passed, then Yamato's voice rose, not remotely sleepy:

_ What do you mean, Mr Briggs?

_ Your mole, Elijah Yashvili. He fled to Russia, didn't he?

_ Yes, but how... ?

_ Yesterday he murdered Igor Kossiak and his family there. Cut their throats. You know about Voron's commander?

_ Of course, Yamato said, but I don't...

_ Kossiak was Mishka's friend, Briggs explained, and it's thanks to him that we learned about Fedorova. But now, Voron wants blood. They're convinced the CIA ordered Kossiak's murder.

_ What? But that's crazy! We wanted the contrary! I was hoping your friend Mishka would help us!

_ What do you mean? Briggs asked, his arched eyebrows reflecting Sam's surprise.

_ We guessed two weeks ago that Mr Loskov was still in contact with one or more of his former colleagues in Voron. That's why we haven't insisted to know who told you the info about Fedorova. We knew Mr Loskov wasn't spying for Russia, and we wanted to ask him if he would agree to become a spy for us. Unofficially, of course. Telling us some minor intel from Voron, but intel that could help us against them. These bastards are good.

_ Mishka is a loyal American citizen, Briggs said, but I doubt he would've agreed. Not because of any wavering loyalties, but because he has earned a quiet retirement and life.

_ How is he, by the way?

_ Still in a coma, Briggs said through a slightly constricted throat. But he's breathing alone now.

_ I see. Well, these news about Voron are terrible. But we aren't behind that murder, I swear. It's a disaster for us.

_ Well, the new Voron commander is also an old friend of Mishka's, but we don't know him. And he told us that his men want the heads of twenty American spies currently in Russia in retaliation.

_ This is a nightmare, Yamato exhaled. But what is your role in all this?

_ Jdan, the Voron commander, asked Sam to be the Ombudsman. Voron respects him because of his long career and fame as an exceptional agent, and because Mishka was one of his agents within Fourth Echelon. He doesn't want a carnage in Russia.

_ That's noble of him. But what will you tell him? Will he believe you when you tell him we're not behind this awful murder?

_ No, I think not, Briggs said. We don't know him enough, and somebody must take the blame. But we think another party is involved.

_ You think so?

_ It's either that or the CIA, Briggs stated calmly. So I ask you to investigate on your side, agent Yamato. We must be certain nobody within the CIA is trying to create a war between you and Voron.

_ Will do right away, Mr Briggs, Yamato vowed. But what about our spies?

_ Sam will do all he can to avoid the bloodshed, Briggs said while looking at his boss, and Sam nodded grimly. But we must find who's pulling the strings, and fast. And for that...

_ I understand, Yamato cut him sharply. You'll have access to your old equipment and headquarters, we have kept them in working order. I'll make sure you'll have all necessary authorizations to investigate.

_ Can you do that? Briggs asked in astonishment.

_ Yes, I can, Yamato said with a hint of amusement. I'm a supervisory agent, now. I have agent Hawkins' post, Mr Briggs. He's been fired. And I will send an agent to give you all you need at Fourth Echelon's premises. Your plane is still in its hangar. I'll ask my superior to be in touch with President McMurdoch.

_ Thanks a lot, agent Yamato, Briggs said with gratitude.

_ Just keep me posted, Mr Briggs.

_ I will.

Briggs hung up and Sam took a deep breath. He looked at each person around him and saw the same grim resolution on their faces. He asked:

_ Ready for Fourth Echelon's last mission?

They all nodded, and Briggs added:

_ And for Mishka.

Sam approved silently and drained his coffee. They had work to do.

One hour later, bags in their van, Grim was driving them to Mishka's house. Sam wanted to see him before starting the mission. He had a slight suspicion they would have to go to Russia soon, and he didn't know when they would come back. On the way, Grim said calmly:

_ Our tour of Europe is definitely cancelled, honey. But what about our wedding?

_ That I don't want to cancel, he told her seriously, putting a hand on her thigh. It's scheduled in a little more than two months, and we'll marry then, my love. Do you believe you can organize it during our mission?

_ Of course, Sam, she said evidently, shooting him a look of commiseration. I've done worse with Third and Fourth Echelon.

_ But you weren't pregnant, then.

_ No, but I'll manage. As long as I can get some sleep in my old cabin, everything should be all right.

He nodded, believing her. She had always had astonishing working capacities, and he didn't doubt she would succeed. But he knew he would have to restrain her. Soon she parked in the alley, and they climbed down. When Sam rang the doorbell, he heard Aliosha's voice saying loudly in Russian:

_ Mama! Someone is outside!

_ Stay behind! his mother ordered.

The door opened and Elena smiled at the sight of them, Aliosha hiding shyly behind her.

_ Hello! I didn't expect you today, and so early. All right?

Sam saw that she was a little worried. Maybe she could see their grim faces. He smiled and answered calmly:

_ It's all right, Elena. But the situation with Voron is complicated. We have a mission. We must leave.

_ I see, she simply said while they entered the living room. What can I do for you?

_ Nothing much, he admitted. But I'd like to see Mishka, if it's possible. Hello, Aliosha!

The small boy had peered at him through his mother's legs, and Aliosha said timidly:

_ Hello, Grandpa Sam!

Sam, heart filling with warmth, beamed at him. He told him:

_ I've come to see Daddy. How is he?

_ Daddy is asleep, Aliosha answered timidly but agreeing to hug Grim. He can't wake up.

_ Soon, kiddo, Sam said with a twinge of sadness. Soon he'll wake up.

_ Follow me, Elena said.

She led them to the back of the house to a small but brightly lit bedroom. On a single medical bed Kestrel was lying, looking asleep. He still had some drip infusions connected to his hands, and Elena told them they were there to feed and hydrate him. She walked next to the bed and said aloud, putting her hand on Kestrel's one:

_ My love, Sam and Grim are there. They want to see you.

Then she kissed him and exited the room, followed by Aliosha and Grim. Sam, left alone with his ops, took a chair and sat right next to him. He said:

_ Hi, sonny! You look confortable here. It's better than hospital, I daresay. And you have a charming doctor all for yourself.

He paused, eyeing his ops who didn't stir, and said, taking his hand:

_ I've got something to tell you, sonny. Brace yourself.

He took a deep breath and went on sadly:

_ Your friend Igor Kossiak is dead. The mole he had in the CIA betrayed him and murdered him and his family. So your friend Jdan, the new Voron commander, phoned you, but Elena took the call. She phoned me, and Jdan asked me to find the one responsible. The CIA also want me to find who's behind this. So Fourth Echelon has a last mission, sonny.

His heart squeezed in dismay. He would miss Kestrel in that mission, his calm and his experience with Voron. But the ops had to wake up from the coma first.

_ We'll miss you, sonny. But take the time you need. And when you wake up, I hope we'll be back and have succeeded.

He felt something under his hand, the one holding Kestrel's right one. As if the ops' little finger had twitched. He focused on his hand, holding his breath, but didn't feel anything else. Maybe I dreamed about it, he thought gloomily. I want him awake so much!

After two minutes he let go of his ops' hand and said sullenly:

_ I have to go, sonny. The team says hello and wish you well. See you very soon.

He got up and looked a last time at Kestrel, lying still on his medical bed. Life can be so unfair, he thought. But soon he would wake up. Of that he was sure.

He exited the bedroom and made his way to the living room. Grim and Elena were chatting calmly, but when they saw him they rose. Grim asked him:

_ Shall we go, honey?

_ Yes, he acknowledged. Let's find the bastard responsible for all this shit.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Grim drove them, allowing Sam to call Victor Coste. From what Grim heard, he wasn't thrilled about having his new teaching team missing for who knew how much time, but he understood the seriousness of the situation well enough. And when Sam hung up, she asked him:

_ Are you really ready for this, Sam?

_ To tell you the truth, I don't know, he confessed calmly. During two long and difficult weeks I've thought about all that had happened, forced my rebelling mind to accept the dissolution of Fourth Echelon and my coming retirement, and think about our new life, together here in Baltimore with our baby. But now everything starts again...

_ You know it's temporary, she said seriously, taking his hand. And it won't be like before.

_ No, it won't be. Only a diplomatic mission. Hurray.

She glanced at him. He wasn't mad but she could tell he wasn't thrilled either.

_ Why me? he asked softly. I'm not the most diplomatic guy they could find.

_ Because it's not a matter of diplomatic skills, she said simply, parking near the hangar of the Paladin. It's a matter of trust. The CIA trust you because of your career and Fourth Echelon. And Voron trust you because you were Mishka's boss and you helped them out of tight spots. Even though you're American, they must know you'll be fair.

He stayed silent, visibly thinking about what she had said, but he gently caressed her hand with his thumb. Then, sighing deeply, they climbed out of the van and headed towards the grey plane, Grim's heart squeezing in nostalgia.

Two men were waiting for them at the foot of the boarding ramp, wearing suits. One of them Sam recognized as one of the agents that had escorted Fedorova at the airport, she heard him murmur, and the guy said, holding out his hand:

_ Mr Fisher, Ms Grimsdottir, I'm supervisory agent Yamato, and this is special agent Robb. Pleased to meet you.

_ It's a pleasure too, agent Yamato, Sam said. So, what do you want us to do?

_ The CIA director has talked to the President, Yamato said. McMurdoch allows and asks the old Fourth Echelon team to solve this problem between the CIA and Voron. The Russian president has been contacted and also agrees. Apparently he remembers your team well.

_ Easy, Sam said with a shrug. We saved his life in Saint Petersburg five years ago.

_ I see, Yamato said, looking impressed. Well, everyone agrees you'll be the Ombudsmen for this problem. And we've brought you all our info on Yashvili.

_ Good, Grim smiled. We'll start working right away.

_ What will we be able to do exactly? Sam wanted to know.

_ On our side, you have every right like within Fourth Echelon, Yamato said seriously. Free hands.

_ Good, Sam said with a small smile at last.

_ And for Russia, you'll have to talk to Voron.

_ We will, Sam said. First thing later today.

_ We're going straight to Russia?

Briggs and Charlie had arrived, bags in hand, and shook hands with everybody. And Sam said seriously, answering Charlie:

_ Yes, we take off in a few minutes, if we have pilots to take us off, of course.

_ They're already on board, Mr Fisher, agent Robb announced. Waiting for your orders.

_ Good. So we fly to Moscow right away.

_ Why such a hurry, Sam? Briggs asked, frowning.

_ Because Mishka told me some time ago that orthodox funerals happen three days after death, Sam explained grimly. If we want to be on time for Kossiak's one, we have to hurry.

Grim stayed silent, like everyone else around her, as the specter of Kossiak hovered next to them. Then she said at last:

_ Then we must leave immediately. We'll work on Yashvili's file during the flight.

_ Good luck, Fourth Echelon, Yamato said darkly.

Grim nodded and followed Sam aboard the plane. They headed straight for their old cabins, and her guts tightened in dismay when passing in front of Kestrel's old one. Two minutes later they were all around the SMI in the control room, and Briggs contacted the pilots, ordering the take-off to Moscow.

She saw Sam inhaling deeply, obviously trying to keep the upper hand on his emotions, then he said rather calmly:

_ Let's go for the last round, this time. I want as much info as possible before we land in Russia. Charlie, show us Yashvili's file, please.

The tech set to work, and a minute later the file was displayed on the console and the screens around. Grim bent on it, like the rest of the team, and after a few minutes she spotted something interesting.

_ There, she said, pointing to a small report. It says here that he went to jail during two years and was friends with a robber from Bulgaria.

_ Bulgaria? Charlie asked. Isn't it an old USSR country?

_ It is, Sam confirmed darkly.

_ Then is it relevant?

_ We don't know yet.

_ Sam? she turned towards him. Maybe you should phone Jdan, warn him we'll arrive soon and ask him for Yashvili's file too.

_ Yeah, he acknowledged. I'll do just that as soon as...

The pilot's voice through the intercom cut him and the team sat in buckled seats during take-off. Grim waited patiently, thinking about Bulgaria, but as tempting as this theory was she didn't give it much credit. Much too easy, she thought dimly.

When they were free to get up again Sam took out his smartphone and called the new Voron commander, who answered immediately:

_ Sam Fisher? Any news?

_ Yes, Georguiy Antonovich, Sam replied calmly. The CIA claim they're not behind the murder and asked us to investigate too. We're en route to Moscow as we speak.

_ Good, even though I don't believe the CIA's word. When will you arrive in Moscow?

_ Around 6 pm for us, which means... One in the morning tomorrow for you.

_ I'm sorry I won't be there at Sheremetyevo to greet you, Jdan said regretfully. I'll be sitting with Igor Dmitrovich and his family, like many Voron agents.

_ When is the funeral?

_ Tomorrow morning, 8 am. But my men won't accept your presence in the church, and even less if you're not orthodox believers, I'm sorry.

_ Only Mishka is an orthodox believer, Sam said sadly, and he's not with us, still being in a coma. But can we go to the cemetery at least?

_ If you want, Jdan said after a few seconds. But no flowers, all right? It's not a good thing for us.

_ Okay, Sam said.

_ Kuntsevo cemetery, around 9 am, then.

_ We'll be there. And I've got something to ask you.

_ I'm listening.

_ Could you please send us Yashvili's file? We'll work on it during the flight.

_ I'll ask Cristina, Jdan said seriously.

_ Thank you, Georguiy Antonovich, Sam said earnestly. See you tomorrow, then.

The line went dead and Sam hung up. Grim could see he looked troubled, but he shook himself and said:

_ Right. Let's share the work. Briggs, you investigate on the CIA and Yashvili's links with them. I still don't trust them. Charlie, you dissect the CIA's file on Yashvili. Grim, you'll study Voron's file as soon as it arrives. Mishka...

Sam stopped immediately, pain in his eyes, but Grim saw his disarray, however fugitive. He corrected himself:

_ No, I'll do Mishka's job. I'll be on Yashvili's links with Voron. To work, everybody. I want answers when we set foot in Russia.

The team nodded seriously and Grim settled in front of her old favourite computer. And five minutes later Charlie transferred Voron's file on Yashvili to her. She buried herself into it, but it was tedious work. She could read in Russian but the translation was a little difficult for her. She would've used Mishka's help. But the ops was in Baltimore, far away from them and not conscious, so she had to manage on her own.

After a good hour Sam exclaimed in rage, making her jump:

_ Not him again! I'll kill him this time, if he's involved!

_ Sam? Briggs asked him in concern. Who're you talking about?

_ Kobin, Sam spat, getting up and angrily pacing the room. The agent of Voron in charge of keeping an eye on Yashvili reported that he met Kobin three times in Greece.

_ What for?

_ Voron doesn't know, Sam rumbled, scowling. Apparently Kossiak was very interested by this info. I'll have to talk to the agent.

_ What's his name? Grim wanted to know.

_ Miroslav Grigorovich Ivkin, Sam groaned, sitting down. My favourite Voron agent.

_ He's not that bad, Briggs countered calmly. He was only doing his job the last time we faced him in France. And he didn't shoot us.

_ Granted, Sam nodded thoughtfully.

_ But what about Kobin? Charlie asked. What do we do?

_ If Kobin is involved, Grim said seriously, then it could explain how the enemy knows so much about us.

_ If we've been manipulated and Mishka almost died because of him, Sam said ruthlessly, I'll skin him alive and feed the fish in the Mediterranean with the rest of his body.

_ But what do we do? Charlie insisted.

_ Let's make a detour, Sam decided. I want to talk to him, ask him a few questions.

Grim shuddered slightly. She had rarely seen the old Splinter Cell looking so mad and focused at once, and understood that Kobin would have a hard time very soon.

_ Where is he? Still in Malta?

_ No, Charlie said, searching for him. Greece. Piraeus, near Athens.

_ Then to Greece we go, Sam said with a cold voice.

_ Wait, Sam, Grim objected calmly. We'll need time with Kobin, and we have to be on time for Kossiak's funeral. Let's go to Russia first, then after the funeral we fly to Greece. Okay?

She stared intently at Sam who visibly thought about it, then nodded grimly. She knew that this time, their old scoundrel ally would have to be persuasive to stop the Splinter Cell from killing him. And she would do nothing to stop him.

Two hours later, as Sam had finally calmed down enough to set to work again, it was Briggs who said with surprise:

_ Hello! What have we got here?

Grim turned round, rubbing her eyes, and Sam asked the ops:

_ What, sonny?

_ Something fishy. Sorry for the pun, Sam. But I think we can't rule out foul play from somebody within the CIA.

_ Please explain yourself, the Splinter Cell said darkly as the team gathered around the SMI.

_ Yashvili was born in America from Georgian parents, Briggs said, showing some parts of the CIA file. An ideal situation for the CIA to recruit him. He was a double agent from the beginning.

_ Who recruited him first? Grim asked seriously.

_ The SVR, Briggs said grimly. And the CIA knew about it. They used it at their profit. Yashvili's been playing both sides for ten years, can you believe it?

_ Did the Russians know? Sam asked.

_ That's the million dollar question, Briggs answered. Grim?

_ Yes, they knew, she confirmed. It's written in Voron's file. He was considered a reliable source but to be closely watched as he was also working for the CIA.

_ In other words, Sam summed up, he was a double agent, and we don't know who he was obeying when killing Kossiak.

_ That's about it, Briggs acknowledged.

_ Okay, Sam said. Grim, concentrate on the SVR. Maybe the one pulling the strings is one of them. Briggs, stay on the CIA's tracks. I want a fair investigation. And Charlie? I want a special job done. Take the two files, make a copy and fuse them together. I want a comparison, and see if something odd surfaces.

_ On it, Sam, the tech nodded.

It only took Charlie five minutes to do the work, and soon Sam was saying:

_ I knew it. A third party.

Grim raised her gaze towards the screen above her head and saw strange reports of meetings, ones that didn't match with the CIA or the SVR.

_ Who was he meeting? she asked seriously, getting up like Briggs and Charlie.

_ Well, we know he met Kobin three times, Sam said with a deep scowl. But he also met another unindentified man, five times in the last year.

_ Do we have some data about it?

_ We have one video record from the CIA, Charlie said. Just a second...

He extracted the file and soon the video played. They saw two people at a café table, talking urgently but with no sound. The sequence was only thirty seconds long, and when it was finished Charlie said before Sam:

_ The ID of the man with Yashvili, on it!

Grim couldn't suppress a smile before the shadow of a grin on Sam's face, and she watched Charlie using the SMI to find the man. It took only a few minutes, then a small beep announced the tech's victory.

_ Philippe Brosselet, Sam read carefully. French agent of the DGSE.

_ Why France? Briggs wondered. It doesn't make sense.

_ Wait a minute, she said, reading the file of the guy. It says here that he was a close colleague of Maxime Blanchard and Michel Perrin.

_ Don't tell me... Charlie started, grimacing.

But she was already digging deeper, feeling the stare of the team on her, and focused. And soon:

_ Yes, this charming man was working for Étienne Leblanc.

_ Then it explains everything, Sam said darkly. Meggido. That cursed organization wants our heads, and probably the CIA's and Voron's ones too. Every people that thwarted them.

_ Correct me if I'm mistaken, Briggs said, but aren't the members of Meggido in jail? And the only remaining leader, Jacques Coudray, in the death row now? In Terre Haute?

_ Nearly, Grim acknowledged. But he was the one behind the suicide bombing in Washington, even if he was already in jail. And he was close to Leblanc, the one Blanchard was working for.

_ Then maybe Yashvili was obeying Coudray's orders, Briggs guessed. A last vengeance on us and Voron.

_ But what is Kobin doing in all this? Grim wondered aloud. He's not following Meggido's orders, from what we know.

_ That's the problem, Sam grumbled. We don't know anything anymore. What do the CIA and Voron have on him?

_ For the CIA, Briggs answered, he's still an arms dealer who's no real threat. First-class scum, but nothing else.

_ Voron has investigated on him after Ivkin reported his encounters with Yashvili, Grim added. Nothing more than the CIA, Sam. They thought Yashvili was buying guns and ammo from him.

_ Then why are my guts telling me otherwise? Sam asked dimly, more to himself than to his listening team. Something definitely fishy's going on, and I wonder what it is. I don't like this. No, not at all.

Grim stayed silent, like the team, and Sam sighed, frowning deeply. At last he said:

_ I guess there's no reason to dwell on it too much. We'll soon see what's the problem with him. We should go back to work.

Grim went back in front of her computer, concentrating on her task. She dug into Yashvili's file during two good hours, but nothing else looked suspicious. So she decided to have a break and went to the small kitchen to cook a late lunch. Soon the team gathered around the steel table of the dining cabin and tucked in the chicken wings and the mashed potatoes.

Grim soon realized that out of habit she had cooked the usual quantities of a Fourth Echelon meal, that involving Kestrel's usual four helpings, and her morale dropped a few degrees. But Sam obviously saw it and said gently, putting a hand on her arm:

_ Thank you, my love. You've made tonight's dinner as well, that's very thoughtful of you.

She shot him a grateful look, but she knew the team wasn't fooled. And Kestrel's empty chair was drawing every stare, a painful reminder of his absence. And as if obeying some unheard signal, as soon as the last bit of dessert was eaten the team hastily got up and went back to the control room. Grim, left alone to clear the table, went to touch lightly the empty chair and murmured:

_ Your absence is cruel, Mishka. It's very unsettling for all of us. Please wake up soon.

She sighed unhappily and set to work. In no time the dishwasher was cleaning the china and the table was cleared. So she headed back to the control room in spite of a growing exhaustion. As she was about to sit down in front of her computer Sam went just next to her. He said in an undertone, caressing her cheek and kissing her:

_ You need a nap, my love.

_ Sam, I...

_ No, he gently cut her weak protest. It's my job to take care of you, my love. You're pregnant, and you're exhausted. So I want you to go to your cabin and lie down for an hour at least.

_ Sam, she said calmly, rejoicing at his thoughtfulness, I can't abandon the team like that. I need...

_ Grim, he said more severely, you'll do as I tell you. Do I have to remind you that I'm still your commander aboard this plane?

_ No, Sam, she said, smiling in spite of her slight annoyance.

_ Then you'll have a nap straight away. And I'll escort you to make sure you won't go working in some corner of the plane.

Shaking her head she saw Briggs and Charlie winking at her, and she grinned at them. Then she followed Sam to her cabin where he took the time to help her out of her pullover and grabbed a blanket as she lay down on her comfortable bed. As her eyes were closing fast he gently covered her and said, kissing her:

_ Rest, my love. You were right earlier. It won't be like before. Now you won't spend all your time working, I'll make sure of that. I'll work for you.

_ Sam..., she started, half-asleep already.

_ Shhh, my love, he cut her again and kissing her some more. Now sleep. You and the baby need rest.

Ceasing to struggle she closed her eyes, feeling Sam's hand caressing her cheek, then fell asleep instantly with a feeling of bliss.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** **Hi readers! I have to take a forced break of about a month with no computer, so I won't be able to update during that period. But don't worry, I'll keep up the work and you'll soon have the next chapters! Enjoy and please review!**

Chapter 13

When she emerged from a very deep sleep, Grim's shoulder was being gently shaken, and she heard Sam's kind voice:

_ Time to wake up, my love.

Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to focus on her partner. He was sitting on the bed, right next to her, a hand still on her shoulder and starting to caress her back. She noticed that the plane wasn't in motion and guessed that they had landed in Moscow. She asked dimly:

_ What time is it?

_ 11 pm for us, Sam answered with a kind smile. And 6 am in Moscow.

_ What? she asked in alarm, sitting up abruptly. I've slept more than ten hours?

_ Yes, Sam said soothingly. But you were tired and we didn't need you. So we let you have a well-earned nap.

_ Sam! she said reproachfully, getting up but swaying on her feet, her head spinning and tiny stars popping up in front of her eyes.

_ Hey, there! Sam said loudly, jumping on his feet and making her sit down again. Go easy, my love! You know you can't jump out of bed like that! Even in normal circumstances one can have a drop of blood pressure doing that, but being pregnant you know you must be more careful than ever.

_ Yes, I know, she murmured unhappily as he helped her lying down again. But I can't stand being the weak link of the group, Sam. I'm not used to be weak, and I can hardly bear you and the team looking after me as if I were ill. I came to help you and work, and not spend my time sleeping.

_ That's why I didn't want you to come, the Splinter Cell confessed calmly. I knew from the beginning that it would be difficult, for us but most of all for you. But I also knew that I couldn't let you stay behind all alone. You would've gone crazy, right?

She reluctantly nodded, knowing that he was right but not liking it. And he went on after kissing her:

_ But you're with us, my love, and we need you and your work. Just bear in mind that it's not a normal Fourth Echelon mission. We're all retired, but we're helping two countries trying to maintain peace between intel gathering agencies. So don't think of yourself as Fourth Echelon's second in command. We're just four people with experience doing a favour to the CIA and Voron, nothing more. So please understand that I can't let you wear yourself out in front of the SMI like before. You're not alone in your body, you carry our baby. And I know it takes a lot of energy making him or her grow up in your womb. So if you have to sleep ten hours or more, just do it and don't worry about us, please.

She saw the concern swirling in his green eyes and smiled at him. He was right and was speaking the truth. And she rejoiced at seeing and feeling his warm hand coming on top of her belly after caressing her cheek. She guided it just above her swelling womb and said tenderly:

_ There, honey. Our baby is there. Oh!

Realization dawned on her. They would miss the ultrasound, scheduled for the following day in Baltimore. She felt appalled, all of a sudden. And she knew that because of her high levels of hormones she was taking the news far worse than what it was worth, but she couldn't help some tears falling out of deception. Alarmed, Sam asked in disarray:

_ What's wrong, my love? Grim?

_ The ultrasound, she stammered, trying to regain composure and feeling rage at not being able to master her emotions. We'll miss it.

Sam stayed silent for a few seconds, first stunned then thinking hard, and finally he said reassuringly, taking her in his strong arms:

_ Don't worry, my love. Maybe we'll be there on time. And if not, we'll take another appointment. Don't cry, we'll soon see our baby, I promise.

_ I don't know why I'm reacting like that, she admitted bitterly, trying to staunch the tears but failing utterly. I know our mission is important and that some lives are at stake, but...

_ But our family is priority number one, Sam finished, kissing her. And I agree with that. Don't worry, my love. You'll have that ultrasound exam soon enough. We won't stay long in Russia.

_ What about our mission?

_ First, we need to attend Kossiak's funeral, Sam explained seriously. And then we need to talk to Jdan and Ivkin, and every Voron agent that can help us. After that, no need to stay in Moscow. We'll probably go back to Baltimore after a detour to Greece.

_ Okay, she nodded in relief. But now I need breakfast.

_ Just what I thought.

Sam, beaming at her, helped her on her feet then left her. She had a long shower first, relaxing her and helping her chase away her bitter thoughts, and after that she met the team in the dining cabin. She could see they hadn't slept yet, and they were eating dinner. But she needed breakfast.

As she sat down Sam passed her a large plate full of eggs, sausages and bacon, with two buttered muffins. Startled, she took the plate and shot him a very grateful look. How did he do that? she wondered. Has he read my mind?

_ I thought you'd like that sort of breakfast, he said, as if hearing her unspoken words.

_ Thank you, honey, she said at last before digging enthusiastically in her meal.

Around her she could see Briggs and Charlie grinning, looking appeased, and Sam was calmly eating his mashed potatoes and chicken wings, looking straight at her from time to time. Then Briggs asked:

_ What do we wear for the funeral, Sam?

_ I was thinking that our old uniform would be good.

_ Won't the Voron agents be angry? Charlie objected. We'll display prominently our nationality like this. Just like the murderer, we are American.

_ But we won't hide our nationality, Sam said calmly, eating the last bit of meat. And Voron called us to help, so no need to hide.

_ Do we bring something? Grim asked. Flowers?

_ No, Sam shook his head. No flowers, Jdan told me so. But maybe we could bring a small icon.

_ Why an icon? Charlie asked in surprise. Are you a believer?

_ Not me, Sam admitted. But Mishka is. I'd like to bring an icon on his part.

Grim stayed silent, like the team. Kestrel's absence was more vivid than ever, and the fact that he couldn't attend the funeral of his old friend and his family was a cruel twist of fate. Or a deliberate manoeuvre, she thought with resentment. They needed to find the ones responsible of all this soon.

Soon the team was ready, looking solemn in their uniforms. Charlie had rented a SUV for them, so Briggs drove the team to the Kuntsevo cemetery. On the way Sam made him stop in front of a monastery and soon came back holding a very small icon. He showed it to the team and Grim recognized the painted picture, but Charlie asked:

_ What does it represent?

_ That's Saint Michael, Sam explained calmly. Mishka's patron saint.

Charlie didn't comment but Grim could sense the team's spirit dropping a little. It is so hard to come here without him, she thought sadly. And a few minutes later, Briggs parked in an empty spot in an overcrowded street at the end of which she could see a church and some space around.

_ Here we go, Sam said grimly. Jdan told me our presence wouldn't be accepted in the church, so maybe we'll have hostile comments or gestures. Just stay calm and meditative, we're there for Mishka and for peace.

Grim nodded in assent, then they all climbed out of the SUV. She followed Sam to the graveyard just next to the beautiful church with its golden domes, and soon saw a large crowd gathered in an alley. Most of the people were wearing a uniform too and she recognized the Voron insignia on their shoulder. All the faces were sad and revolted, but everyone was listening intently to a tall man in the same uniform, telling them about Kossiak's leadership that wouldn't be forgotten.

Quickly some agents noticed their presence and, to her great surprise, they parted, making way for them with expressions of respect on their dark faces. She heard a murmur in Russian: "Sam Fisher... It's Sam Fisher... He really has come..."

Unfazed in front of her, Sam walked on, passing between two huge ranks of parting agents, and she, Briggs and Charlie still followed, sensing that the moment was exceptional. Nothing should spoil it, and they had to be careful to keep the respect going on and not make an awkward gesture.

And soon the last agents parted and she saw the four open coffins, as was the tradition in Russia. Two regular-sized ones with Igor Kossiak and his wife, and two smaller ones with children. Two boys. She couldn't suppress her emotion and felt tears rolling on her cheeks as she and the team removed their caps. She watched for long minutes the four bodies, their throats covered by large scarves, and felt appalled and angered. The murderer was already dead, but they had to find the horrible people behind such a crime. She felt particularly bad at seeing the swollen belly of Kossiak's wife, as she had been pregnant. But now her unborn baby was dead too.

After another minute Sam walked to the tall man facing the crowd, an orthodox priest standing next to him, and asked with a hoarse voice:

_ Georguiy Antonovich?

_ Yes, Sam Fisher, the man said, obviously fighting his emotion. Thanks for coming. Igor Dmitrovich would've been happy.

_ I wish Mishka were with us, Sam said after clearing his throat. But he's still in a coma.

_ I hope he'll wake up soon, Jdan said as around him his agents nodded in approval, looking sad and affected.

_ I've brought something on his part, Sam told him, handing him the small icon. He's an orthodox believer, so I think he would've liked...

Sam's voice broke a little, but Jdan seemed to understand. He took the icon and stared at it a long time, then turned towards the priest who blessed it in solemn words. And after the blessing he put the icon next to Kossiak's heart, murmuring:

_ A last gift of farewell for you, old friend, from Mishka.

Grim burst into silent tears, soon comforted by Sam's strong and gentle embrace as he steered her a little away with the team. And they watched the priest blessing the bodies a last time before the coffins were closed and put down into the graves. The Voron agents, Jdan in the lead, all grabbed some soil and threw it on the coffins, but the Fourth Echelon team stayed away, knowing that only the next of kin were to do this.

And soon the funeral was over, and Jdan came to see them. Grim had regained some composure and was able to nod with a weak smile when the Voron commander asked her gently:

_ All right?

Then the Russian guy turned towards Sam and said with a thick accent:

_ I assume you want to talk about what happened and the murderer?

_ That would be nice, Sam acknowledged. We have to fly to Greece soon.

_ Please follow me. We have a place for meetings a few hundred meters from here.

They all walked towards a decrepit building, following the throng of agents, and soon arrived in an old but warm room filled with talking agents sipping some strong tea from the huge samovar standing in a corner of the room on a large table. Jdan offered them some, and Grim gratefully accepted, feeling chilled to the bone. The weather was good but cold, and as she sipped the boiling hot tea with honey she felt it warming her nicely.

Once everybody had its cup filled Jdan said loudly in Russian for every people to hear:

_ As you probably all saw it, Sam Fisher and his team are here, except Mishka who's still in a coma after Nataliya Victorovna shot him in Baltimore.

A growl of anger rose, and Grim knew that the mention of Fedorova was pleasant neither for Voron nor for Fourth Echelon. And an agent nearby asked:

_ Will Mishka be all right?

Jdan turned towards Sam who said in Russian:

_ He almost died saving me. He took three bullets in the chest. Now he's out of danger but we don't know if he'll wake up one day.

Grim saw sad and compassionate looks around her, and guessed that Kestrel had been deeply appreciated in Voron before all the tragic events that had happened to him. But Jdan said:

_ You all know why Fourth Echelon is here. I asked them to find the ones who ordered Igor Dmitrovich and his family's murder, as it's very likely they are American.

_ And will they make a fair investigation? someone asked in the crowd. They are American too!

_ Yes, we are, Sam said calmly, still in his best Russian. But one thing I can't stand is a traitor, no matter which country he's from. If the culprit is American, it won't prevent me from taking care of him or her.

_ If? Jdan asked. Do you have a doubt?

_ We are following several leads, Sam explained seriously. Of course we're investigating on the CIA, because I'm not taking every word of theirs as true. And I know some of them are complete bastards. But we'll also investigate on the SVR, and we have some leads to a third party involved.

_ A third party? Who?

_ We don't know yet. The man we found is only a middleman, we need to dig deeper. And for that, we have to go to Greece soon.

_ I see, Jdan said after a few seconds. How can we trust you to be fair, Sam Fisher?

_ I assume you would've been less in doubt if Mishka had been around? Sam said sadly.

_ Yes, Jdan admitted with a pained smile.

_ Then I can tell you something, Georguiy Antonovich. We think the same man behind Igor Dmitrovich's murder is also behind Fedorova's attack against us in Baltimore. We believe someone manipulated Igor Dmitrovich and us to know about her release so she could take revenge upon us. And Mishka paid the hard price for it, Sam added with fire in his eyes. So be assured the one behind all this, Russian or American or whatever, won't rest in peace long.

Grim could see the agents around them looking convinced, but Jdan seemed to have a last doubt. He asked:

_ And why would you do that for us and Mishka, Sam Fisher? What does Mishka represent for you? He was one of your agents, but aside from that?

_ I regard him as my own son, Sam confessed serenely.

He locked eyes with Jdan, and this time Grim could see that the Voron commander believed him. The Russian nodded and said:

_ You speak the truth, Sam Fisher. And I'm happy for Mishka. He deserves a father like you.

He turned towards his men and said a single Russian word:

_ Нет? (No?)

Nothing moved. He asked again:

_ Да? (Yes?)

This time, all hands rose into the air. So Jdan said, turning towards Sam and the team:

_ Voron trust you to find the culprit, Fourth Echelon. We'll help you as much as we can. I believe you have some questions?

_ A lot, actually, Sam said seriously.

_ We'll go next door, to a smaller room. Do you need some of my agents?

_ Yes. I need to talk to Ivkin, and the one who went to the crime scene first.

_ Miroslav Grigorovich! Jdan called loudly. Josef Ilich!

Two agents walked towards them, and Grim studied them closely. She knew Briggs and maybe Sam knew them, but it was the first time she saw them. But the men struck her as calm and honest agents, trustworthy ones. She could believe their word. Jdan introduced them:

_ Miroslav Grigorovich Ivkin, who was keeping track on Yashvili, and Josef Ilich Marinov, who was Igor Dmitrovich's bodyguard and my usual teammate.

She noticed that Ivkin was looking nervous and shooting uneasy glances at Sam, but she knew it was probably from their last encounter in France. And predictably Sam said with a small smile:

_ It's okay, Miroslav Grigorovich. I'm not going to bite. Forget the spat in France.

_ I'm sorry, Sam Fisher, the man rushed in halting English. I didn't want to...

_ Just forget it, Sam repeated calmly. Water under the bridge, and each one of us was defending his own interests. But now we are here for a much more important matter.

_ Indeed, Jdan said grimly. Follow me, please.

Grim stayed next to Sam as they walked to a nearby door and Jdan opened it. They went in and saw a small conference room with a dozen chairs and a desk. They sat down and Jdan asked:

_ Fire away, then, Sam Fisher.

_ First, I need to know what happened exactly to Kossiak and his family.

Marinov took a deep breath and started in good English with a thick Slavic accent:

_ I was Igor Dmitrovich's bodyguard for the month. After his work at Voron's headquarters he asked me to drive him to his dacha in the country around Moscow. He had a few days of leave and had planned to spend them with his family. That business with Fedorova and the CIA was bothering him a lot, and Mishka's state too, but he really needed some rest. So we went to the dacha where his wife and children already were, and they ate dinner. I was having a sandwich in the hall when I heard Anya, his wife, and the boys screaming. And when I arrived in the kitchen, Yashvili was slicing open the throat of the youngest boy.

He paused, looking straight at Sam whose eyes were shining with anger, and went on sadly:

_ I suppose he killed Igor Dmitrovich first, as he was the main threat. Yashvili was a good spy but also an expert at cutting throats open. He had lessons from that cursed Vikachev.

Grim, nausea rising in her throat, dimly remembered the cruel executioner of Voron Sam had shot five years ago after nearly killing Kestrel in Mexico. If Yashvili had been his pupil... She took a deep breath to regain composure and Jdan shot her an encouraging smile. Marinov gave them the last part of the story:

_ I took out my pistol and I shot him. At that time only rage was filling me, I didn't think it could've been better just to arrest him. Dead, he can't talk. Now I know I made a mistake.

_ No one can blame you, Josef Ilich, Sam said seriously as the Voron agent hung his head. It must be terrible to see a whole family murdered so horribly. Don't worry, we'll find the answers.

_ Exactly what I already told you, Jdan said calmly. You've done well, old friend.

_ I can't forget Igor Dmitrovich's face, Marinov murmured in a barely audible whisper. And his cut throat, all the blood...

Jdan, seated next to him, put a comforting hand on his shoulder and locked eyes with Sam who nodded grimly. No need to torture the poor guy anymore. So the Voron commander said gently:

_ We're done with questions for you, Josef Ilich. Miroslav Grigorovich, please escort him next door and tell Kirill Petrovich to accompany him home. You have a week of leave, old friend. I'll phone you later today.

Marinov nodded dimly and rose, followed by Ivkin, and they exited the room. Sam said:

_ He is traumatized. He'll need time.

_ Yes, Jdan approved sadly. And thanks for not asking him more details.

_ No need. Yashvili's body, has it... ?

_ Our doctor made an autopsy. No drugs or alcohol. He knew what he was doing.

Jdan's expression was dark and bitter, and he asked:

_ Are you really going to investigate on the CIA?

_ Yes, Sam repeated serenely. Just like on the SVR and the third party.

Jdan nodded as Ivkin came back into the room. After he sat down again Sam addressed him:

_ We saw in Voron's file on Yashvili that you were keeping an eye on him, Miroslav Grigorovich. What can you tell us about him?

Ivkin took a deep breath and started in good English:

_ Since the SVR recruited him he has been monitored by Voron, as we knew he was a double agent. First by Serguei Fiodorovich, Vikachev, then by me since five years ago. He has always been a good spy, as far as I know, and we never doubted his loyalties until...

_ Okay, Sam said as Ivkin's lip quivered. Now, we read that he met Kobin and another man last year. What was he up to?

_ He was doing some work for the CIA, Ivkin explained, and gave us the intel about it.

_ What was this work? Briggs asked, frowning.

Ivkin rubbed his face, shot an uneasy look at Jdan who nodded silently, and confessed:

_ He was following your team. All of you, and your families, including Mishka. Gathering as much info as possible on you.

Grim was stunned, like the team, but she was the first to ask:

_ But why? The CIA has everything on us! What info do they need?

Again Ivkin looked at Jdan before saying, clearly ill-at-ease and fearing Sam's reaction who was looking ready to explode:

_ Because apparently your team, and most of all Sam Fisher, is considered out of control and much too dangerous and influential to be left alone. They want to monitor your actions. Yashvili told me that his boss in particular was very wary about what you could do now Fourth Echelon is no more.

_ And who's this boss? Sam asked with a rumbling voice, fury threatening to erupt out of him.

Ivkin swallowed hard before saying with a small voice:

_ Supervisory agent Nathan Hawkins.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** **Hi everyone! I'm back and happy to update this new chapter after this long leave! Sorry for the waiting again! Please enjoy, and please leave a review!**

Chapter 14

Sam felt as if the ground was shifting beneath his feet. Hearing from old adversaries that the American CIA had been tracking them thanks to a double agent was quite infuriating, but most of all utterly destabilizing. However he quickly gathered his bearings and said:

_ This Hawkins has been fired a few days ago.

_ But was he acting on his own? Briggs wondered aloud, doubt etched on his face. Remember Judge Sanders.

_ Yeah, Charlie chimed in darkly. He spoke about some four-star generals, but maybe...

_ What? Jdan asked, as he and Ivkin looked lost. What does that mean?

_ It means that maybe Meggido isn't done with us yet, Grim said seriously.

_ Meggido? Jdan asked, dumbfounded. Aren't they in jail or dead?

_ Yes, Sam acknowledged, fury rising in him but trying to keep calm. But the remaining members are after us.

_ Coudray, Briggs explained in front of the Russian's puzzled expressions. The only remaining leader. He's in jail, but he was the one behind the terrorist attack in Washington.

_ And it wouldn't be a great surprise for us if he were the one pulling Yashvili and Fedorova's strings, added Grim with a frown.

Sam, although shaking with hardly suppressed rage, took a deep breath and focused on their task. They had a mission to complete. He said:

_ We'll investigate on him later. Now we have another lead towards the CIA, and Hawkins in particular. Let's concentrate on him and his motives. We'll soon find who's behind him. Do you have something else for us, Miroslav Grigorovich?

Ivkin shook his head then said hesitantly:

_ Well, there is some minor thing, but I don't know if it's relevant.

_ Tell us, Sam said encouragingly. Any minor thing for you could be a huge step forward for us.

_ True, Jdan approved.

_ Right, Ivkin said. Yashvili had an odd habit. He was smoking special Cuban cigarillos, and bought them from someone in the black market. Someone you know.

_ Who? Briggs asked.

But Sam guessed, and said with a toneless voice:

_ Kobin.

_ Andriy Kobin, yes, Ivkin nodded with a not-so-surprised expression. At first I thought Yashvili was buying guns and ammo from him, but he himself told me that only Kobin could obtain him those cigarillos, as they were forbidden ones from Cuba. I found out only a week ago and haven't had time to modify his file.

_ Okay, thanks, Sam said calmly, keeping his emotions under control. We'll have a chat with Kobin very soon, we'll find out what that means.

He rose, imitated by his team and the two Voron members, and Jdan told him grimly:

_ I can only wish you success, Sam Fisher. Bring us the heads of the ones responsible.

_ We will, Georguiy Antonovich, Sam promised. I'll have the skins of the ones foolish enough to attack Igor Dmitrovich and Mishka.

Jdan nodded gravely and they shook hands, then Grim said diplomatically:

_ We'll keep you posted as often as we can.

_ I trust you, Jdan said simply as he escorted them back to the big room. Good luck, Fourth Echelon.

Sam nodded a last time, noticing every agent's eyes on him and the team, and exited the room. Back to the cold morning of Moscow, he led them to the car and they hastily climbed into the SUV. As Briggs drove them back to Sheremetyevo airport, Grim said:

_ They seem to trust us.

_ Seems so, yeah, Sam acknowledged. But we had better watch our backs. If our investigation leads to someone who doesn't suit them...

_ Let's hope the culprit won't be Russian, Charlie said darkly. But the odds are lower and lower.

_ True, Sam said. Between Kobin, Hawkins and Brosselet, we have quite some work to do.

_ Looks like some sleepless nights lay ahead of us, the tech complained.

Sam didn't reply, but his thoughts were wandering. Too many leads, his mind was saying in alarm. Too many possibilities.

_ I don't like this, he finally said aloud. Don't you have this feeling of...

_ ...being in front of a stage, Grim finished seriously. A Chinese shadow puppet show.

_ Exactly, Sam nodded, glad to see that the woman he loved, one of the smartest persons he knew, shared his doubts. I can't help this feeling of being taken for a fool. A hopeless spectator watching a conjurer trick.

_ Do you mean the answer is simpler than what it seems? Briggs asked as he reached the airport rental station.

_ I can't be sure, Sam admitted as they all climbed down the car, but I've been fooled enough in my life to be suspicious, and in this situation a loud alarm is blaring in my head. So let's advance with caution in this mess.

The team nodded darkly and after giving the keys to the desk employee they made their way back to the Paladin. Sam ordered an immediate take-off to Athens, and when the plane reached its flight altitude he led his team to the kitchen for a good lunch. He was very tired as he hadn't slept in more than thirty hours, so after eating he shephered his team to their cabins for a well-earned nap. Nobody complained, not even Grim who obviously needed to lie down for a few minutes, and he himself collapsed on his bunk and fell asleep instantly.

He dreamed he was in Kestrel's house, in the ops' bedroom, standing right beside the bed and looking at him still not moving, looking asleep. He could hear Elena's deep breaths in the bedroom across the corridor though the doors which had been left ajar, and farther away Aliosha was muttering something in Russian about a broken toy. But he concentrated on the motionless form under the blankets, and a soft voice made him jump violently:

_ Nice of you to visit, Daddy.

He turned his head and thought he was hallucinating: Kestrel was sitting on the window sill, smiling serenely and looking good. But the ops was still in his bed, sleeping! Before he could utter his bewilderment, the Kestrel who was up said calmly:

_ Don't freak out, I'm still in a coma. What you see is my spirit, the one who's free of this infernal situation. And you're not really there with me, I believe you're sleeping somewhere.

_ Having a nap aboard the Paladin, Sam said at last, realizing that the ops talking to him looked like a ghost, with a faint glow around an opalescent body, and he noticed that his own body looked the same way. So, what's happening, sonny? Why are we meeting here? I'm happy to see you, by the way.

_ Same for me, Kestrel said, rising and approaching his motionless body in the bed. I've tried to call you out since some time now, but I'm happy you're finally there.

_ What do you mean? Sam frowned.

_ I have to be quick, the ops said. You can wake up any moment, and we won't be able to talk much. But I need you, Daddy.

_ Anything, sonny, Sam said with emotion. You saved me yet again. I wish you wake up soon.

_ Me too, Kestrel said earnestly. It's horrible to hear the people you love around you, worrying for you, and you're not able to talk to them. But I'm in danger, and I need you and the team.

_ Are you... Are you going to die? Sam asked in dread, worry constricting his throat.

_ No, I don't think so. But I've heard a lot of things since I've been put in a coma. And I think that Fedorova's attack was no accident. That bitch wouldn't have accepted to be killed like that, even to take revenge upon us. She was much too tied to life. It wasn't her.

_ We suspect someone's been pulling her strings, Sam said. Some Meggido party.

_ But why? Kestrel asked, and Sam heard it wasn't really a question. To kill us? Useless, we were already out of the game. To take revenge? Fedorova had everything to gain by going back to Russia. Not every Voron agent hates her, she would've had the best chances to survive if she had gone back to Moscow and planned her revenge from there.

_ Are you trying to tell me that she wasn't supposed to die in Dulles? Sam asked in astonishment.

_ That's the best explanation for her behaviour, Kestrel explained calmly. Like I said, I knew her. I hated her, granted, but I worked with her from time to time. She never would've sacrificed her life like that.

_ Then it means that the CIA agents that were with her...

_ … were her accomplices. Or at least one of them.

_ Then the culprit is truly a CIA agent, Sam muttered. But why put us on the stage again? We were out of commotion.

_ Because of Igor's death, Kestrel said sadly. Voron asked for your help, a completely unforeseen request, so the CIA had no choice but asking too. Too suspicious otherwise.

_ I'm sorry, sonny, Sam said, noticing the ops' bright eyes. I really am.

Kestrel nodded without a word, then said:

_ Thanks for going to his funeral. I wish I had been there with you.

_ Me too, sonny.

A faint sound made him stir, and Kestrel said in haste:

_ You're about to wake up. Sam, I need your help. You remember those agents that came to take some samples from me?

_ Yeah.

_ They aren't done yet, the ops said hurriedly as Sam's vision slowly blurred. They'll come again soon to have them, and you're away. I think that's why the CIA gave you the Paladin, like that you're well away from me and my family. They're around the house, I heard them last night, whispering. They're waiting for you to meet Kobin.

_ What? Sam asked as he sensed the dream receding in his mind.

_ Kobin is under surveillance, Kestrel said as he and the bedroom slowly faded. As soon as you set foot in Greece, they'll attack us. Elena and Aliosha will probably be killed, and me abducted and killed after being dissected. Sam, please, I need you to come back!

_ But who's behind this? Sam shouted as the images disappeared.

Too late. He woke up in his cabin, shivering and disoriented as someone was knocking on the door. He heard Briggs' voice:

_ Sam? We'll land in Athens in five minutes.

_ No! he yelled as he jumped from the bed and ran outside, startling Briggs.

He ran like the wind into the control room, ignoring Grim and Charlie's bewildered expressions, and reached the interphone. He punched it and said firmly to the pilots:

_ Landing cancelled! Head for Baltimore straight away!

_ Commander Fisher? the pilot's voice rose, sounding surprised. Do you confirm? The landing in Athens is cancelled and we fly to Baltimore?

_ Yes, Sam said, taking a deep breath as around him the team was exchanging puzzled and worried looks. I confirm: the landing in Greece is cancelled, we must go back to Baltimore as soon as possible.

_ Copy, the pilot said. Next landing: Baltimore. But we need fuel.

_ I'll have an in-flight refueling scheduled, Sam said. How much time?

_ In three hours at the latest.

_ Roger that.

He cut the communication and Grim asked him hesitantly:

_ Sam? What's the matter? We need to talk to Kobin.

_ Later, Sam said, facing his team. First, we need to save Mishka.

And he recounted his dream to his team. He could see they were stunned, and Charlie was clearly thinking he had lost his marbles. But Briggs and Grim were visibly thinking about what Kestrel had told him, and finally the ops said:

_ That dream of yours is quite strange, Sam, I admit. But even if you've imagined the whole thing, it could explain why we're running after shadow puppets.

_ The one behind all this is in the US, Grim added darkly, and most probably a CIA agent. You're right, maybe all this masquerade was meant to make us go away and leave a clear field for our enemies to attack Mishka.

_ He was the target all along, Sam realized. Fedorova waited for him to be in front of me to open fire. She would've had the time to kill me before Mishka shielded me.

_ We should've investigated earlier on the two CIA agents escorting her, Charlie rumbled angrily. Who are they, again?

_ Agent Yamato, Sam said with growing fury, and the other one I don't know.

_ Agent Robb, Briggs chimed in. The one who was with Yamato in Baltimore whe we boarded the Paladin.

_ I take Yamato, Grim said firmly, sitting in front of her computer.

_ And me, Robb, Charlie said, imitating her.

_ On their links with Hawkins, Brosselet and Kobin, Briggs added grimly.

So Sam, left alone in front of the SMI and smiling faintly to himself, organized the in-flight refueling then waited for the first info to appear on the console. But he decided to take no chances and called his old friend Coste.

_ Hey, Sam! I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon! So what's up?

_ Vic, Sam said seriously, I need some of your best agents for an urgent mission. Make a bill like I'm a regular customer, I'll pay it.

_ What's happening?

Sam could hear the seriousness creeping back in his friend's tone and knew he could count on him, as always. He was lucky to have such a good and faithful friend. He told him:

_ I believe some rogue CIA agents are after Mishka, and more specifically after some of his unusual abilities. He's in danger, Vic, and his family too. I need you to protect them while we're away. We're coming back, but I don't want anything to happen in the meantime.

_ I understand, Coste said through the loudspeaker. A team of six should be enough. When will you arrive?

_ What time is it in Baltimore?

_ 7.12 am.

_ So... Sam calculated, feeling a migraine invading his skull, we'll land around 8 pm.

_ Okay. I'll have a team in front of his door in less than twenty minutes.

_ Thanks, Vic. I'll call Elena.

Sam hung up and dialed the Russian doctor's number. After three ringings the line was picked up and he heard Elena's voice rising, sounding worried:

_ Sam? Is everything all right?

_ Yes, Elena, don't worry, he said as calmly as possible. But I need you to leave Johns Hopkins, go pick up Aliosha then come back to your house. A team of six agents are coming to your place and will protect Mishka, Aliosha and you.

_ But a CIA agent told me yesterday that they would send two men around noon! Elena said in alarm. What's happening, Sam?

The Splinter Cell felt dread rising in his guts but he forced himself to calm. Vic's men would protect Kestrel and his family, he knew he could trust Victor Coste. He said soothingly:

_ I didn't know that, but it's an extra precaution, Elena. Please trust the team that's coming and let them protect you. Me and my team are en route to Baltimore, we'll be there tonight.

_ Sam, I'm... I'm scared.

He could hear the quiver in her voice and told her as calmly and firmly as possible:

_ Everything's gonna be all right, Elena. Trust me. The six agents will arrive in Murray Hill in about twenty minutes. Open for them and stay with Aliosha around them every time, okay?

_ Okay, Sam, she said at last, and Sam could hear she was in motion, running fast. But what about the CIA agents?

_ The six agents will deal with them, Sam promised. Don't worry. I'll warn them. They are agents of a friend of mine, Victor Coste.

_ Mishka's employer?

_ The very same. Take care, Elena, and hurry to go home, will you?

_ I will, Sam. But why... ?

_ I'll explain everything tonight, he promised again. But now I must leave.

_ Okay, see you tonight, then.

He hung up and hastily called back Coste, warning him about the CIA agents. Coste said seriously:

_ We won't attack them, but if they do, we'll retaliate. I've sent my best gunsmen, Sam, and Ben is leading them. He won't do anything rash.

_ I know, Sam said gratefully, but tell him and his men to be wary and careful.

_ I will, Sam.

The line went dead and he shot a look at Grim, Briggs and Charlie. They were all working intently but he knew they hadn't missed any word of the conversations. And Briggs said with a worried frown:

_ Please call Molly too, Sam. She's the nurse who's looking after Mishka every day.

He had forgotten all about that but took out his smartphone again:

_ Hi Molly! It's Sam.

_ Sam? Is everything okay? Is Isaac...

_ He's here, Molly, he said reassuringly, he's working on his computer. I call for something else.

_ Phew! he heard her sighing in relief. For a second I thought about the worst. But why do you call me, Sam?

_ Is Mishka all right?

_ Yes. He's still in a coma. But yesterday his little finger was twitching sometimes, when we talked to him. I hope it means he'll wake up soon. Elena was delighted, and so was I.

_ That's great, he rejoiced but staying focused on his task. Now, Molly, I need you to listen to me. A team of six agents of my friend Victor Coste is coming, led by my son-in-law Ben. They'll arrive in about ten minutes now. You'll let them in and ask two of them to stay near Mishka and you, okay?

_ Are we... are we in danger? she stammered in fear.

_ No, no, he said soothingly, feeling bad to have to lie. It's just a precaution, Molly. I asked Elena to pick Aliosha up and come, she'll be there soon too.

_ Sam, I... I need to talk to Isaac, please.

_ Sure. Please relax, Molly, everything's all right.

He beckoned at Briggs to come and handed him the phone. While the ops talked calmly to his wife, telling her not to worry and explaining that he would see her in the evening, Sam went behind Grim and looked at what she had found. She said as he put his hand on her left shoulder:

_ Yamato is very probably the one we're looking for. He orchestrated Fedorova's transfer, and I suspect him to have used Hawkins as an easy culprit.

_ How? Sam asked, scowling. Ivkin told us...

_ Ivkin told us what Yashvili had told him, Grim cut him gently. Throwing Voron off the scent in case they had suspicions.

_ And speaking about Voron, Sam said as Briggs finally hung up and gave him back his phone, I need to ask them to do a little job for us.

_ What job? Charlie asked from behind his large computer screen.

Sam inhaled deeply and said:

_ Kidnap Kobin.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

_ What?! Grim, Briggs and Charlie chorused in surprise, making Sam chuckle in amusement.

_ Sam... Grim started hesitantly, obviously seeing that he was very serious in spite of his grin. You want Voron... to kidnap Kobin?

_ Yes, he acknowledged calmly. We can't go fetch him ourselves, Mishka is our priority. But I also know we can't let him roaming free in Greece. Sooner or later the rogue CIA agents will learn about his links with Yashvili, and maybe they'll want to interrogate him, or simply kill him. And I just can't let that happen before we ask him our questions.

He could see that Charlie was still flabbergasted, but Briggs nodded gravely. However Grim, her lips tightly pursed, seemed to disapprove. He knew why. She had always had a rocky relationship with the arms dealer and probably thought he wasn't worth the trouble, but he himself knew better. Even if he truly hated the scoundrel, he had to save his skin one more time. His info was too important, as usual.

He dialed Jdan's number, and soon the Voron commander picked up the call:

_ Sam Fisher. Have you got some news already?

_ I can tell you that you were probably right, Georguiy Antonovich, Sam said calmly. It seems that at least one CIA agent turned rogue and is responsible for all this shit.

_ I knew it, the Russian said, not sounding suprised but a sad note in his tone. Are they aware of your investigations?

_ I don't think so, but I can't be one hundred percent sure. We'll have to take caution from now on. But I have something to ask you, Georguiy Antonovich. A job that must be done as quickly as possible but that we can't do ourselves.

_ I'm listening.

_ I'd need Voron to kidnap Andriy Kobin. He's in Piraeus, in Greece.

_ I know the place. And I assume we can't kill him?

_ No. He has the intel we need, or at least I hope so. But he's under surveillance from the CIA. That's why we can't do the job ourselves. It would immediately give us away to the traitor, and I need my team to stay undercover a little longer. I need all the cards in my hand.

_ I think Voron can do that, Jdan approved calmly. We'll ship him... where?

_ To the US, if possible. We're flying back to Baltimore.

_ Then I'll send him there, to the airport. I'll contact you when he's in our custody to arrange a meeting.

_ Thanks a lot, Georguiy Antonovich.

_ Don't thank me, Sam Fisher. Like that Voron and Fourth Echelon will be even. No more lingering debts between us all.

_ I understand, Sam said, knowing that like that Jdan would sever all ties between them after the investigation is over. I'm waiting to hearing from you soon.

_ You can count on me.

The line went dead, and Sam focused back on the problems at hand. He asked aloud:

_ So? What have you found?

_ Robb is most certainly clean, Charlie said. I'll help Briggs with his task, just checking a last thing.

_ From what I learned, Briggs said grimly, Hawkins was just a heavy gambler who became a corrupted agent at the service of some political men, and Yamato took advantage of it to make him fall and be the scapegoat. Yamato was in contact with Brosselet, which confirms our suspicions. And as far as I know, he never saw Kobin or talked to him.

_ Okay, Sam nodded in satisfaction. Charlie, dig deeper on the links between Yamato and Brosselet. Briggs, start...

_ Wait a minute, Sam, Grim cut him, watching intently her screen. I think I... yes, we have a problem.

_ What? he asked, frowning and wondering what was happening again.

_ Yamato... it's a fake identity. A good one, but created out of nowhere. And I think...

He approached her computer and she exclaimed incredulously:

_ Holy shit!

With a swift movement she sent her info on the SMI and the team gathered around the console. Sam bent over the file displayed and asked, not believing what he was seeing:

_ The NSA? Yamato is a NSA agent?

_ His real name is Teppei Fujiwara, American born from Japanese parents, she said. He's a very gifted NSA agent, specialized in undercover operations.

_ So what is he doing in the CIA?

_ Maybe the same thing than us, Briggs ventured. Trying to find the silent partners in this mess.

_ That complicates things, Sam said with a deep scowl. But does it change anything?

_ To answer that question, Grim said with a grimace, we must know what is his mission within the NSA.

_ Will they tell us if we ask them officially?

_ No. You know the director can't stand us. He'll tell us to go fuck off, like last time.

_ Yeah, that's probable, Sam nodded thoughtfully, knowing that the new NSA director, Leonard, was a complete asshole. So we do it ourselves. Charlie?

_ Ready, Sam, the tech told him seriously, cracking his knuckles and sitting in front of his huge computer. Give me a few minutes.

_ Grim?

_ I'll back him up in case of need, she said, going back to her seat.

_ Briggs, find me all you can on Kobin's last comms. I want to know what he's up to these days.

_ Copy, Sam.

Sam's smartphone rang just as the pilot warned the crew to sit down and buckle their seat belts for the in-flight refuelling manoeuvre. And while the plane gently rocked back and forth to take position, Sam picked up the call:

_ Fisher.

_ Hi, Sam, it's Ben.

_ Ben, good to hear from you! So, how are things?

_ We're at Mishka's, Elena has arrived with Aliosha, the young agent explained calmly. Molly is there too, and Mishka is still in a coma. But I know we're being watched, Sam. Nobody that we can see, but I just feel it.

_ Yeah, your instincts. You're right, the CIA is around, Ben. They want Mishka's body.

_ They won't have him, Sam, he said fiercely. We'll defend him from these lunatics.

_ Just be careful, Ben, Sam said with his throat quite constricted. Sarah wouldn't forgive me if anything happened to you.

_ I have the best team that can be found in the East Coast, Sam. Don't worry.

_ I trust you, sonny.

The sudden silence on the line told the Splinter Cell how much moved his son-in-law was to be called sonny, but he said gently:

_ Take care, Ben, we'll be there tonight.

_ Okay, Sam. Safe flight.

He hung up and jumped when Charlie yelled:

_ No! No, no, no!

_ How can they... ? Grim asked in bewilderment and fury.

_ What? Sam asked, echoed by Briggs as the two of them ran behind Charlie and Grim. What's happening?

_ They know, Sam! the tech shrieked in anger and astonishment. They shut us down! And I fear...

_ Yes, Grim said tonelessly. They know it's us. Sam...

The official line of Fourth Echelon line rang in the stunned silence, and Sam took a deep breath. The match that was coming would be a tough one. He picked up the call and switched on the loudspeaker:

_ Fisher.

_ Sam Fisher, you bastard!

The outraged roar erupted from around them, making Charlie and Briggs flinch, but not destabilizing the old Splinter Cell. He knew what to expect from Leonard, and he was ready. The chess game had begun, he dimly thought. The roar went on:

_ How dare you hack into the NSA?! You're completely nuts! I won't let you do your little tricks just because the President favours you and your team! We know your ways into our database now, and I will do all I can to thwart you, do you hear me? What do you want from us?

_ Leonard, Sam said very calmly, wanting to pull the rug from under his counterpart's feet. I want Yamato, or rather Fujiwara. What is he doing in the CIA for you?

Silence answered him, and he smiled in triumph. He knew Leonard, and this silence was already a victory. The NSA director was a wicked son of a bitch, but he had always had trouble to lie, a fact that Sam wanted to use at his profit. He went on:

_ I know he's involved in a fishy situation, Leonard, and we think he's a traitor.

_ Impossible! Leonard shouted at last, making Sam snort in laughter. Fujiwara is above all suspicion! He's a very gifted agent and gives us priceless intel. I forbid you to suspect him!

_ So you'll tell us why we should believe you, he said seriously, having hooked the director. From our point of view, he's responsible of a very deep security breach within the CIA and ordered the murder of Voron's commander.

_ Bullshit! He's investigating on this matter, following my orders. He proved that Hawkins, an ex-CIA supervisory agent, is behind all this.

_ And that is a huge pile of bullshit, Sam said calmly. Hawkins is a scapegoat, Leonard. Our leads tend to prove that your so-good-agent Fujiwara is the real culprit.

_ Nonsense! I don't believe you, Fisher!

_ And why would you doubt my word, Leonard? What do I have to gain in all this? I was retired, I just wanted to be left alone. But I was asked to prevent a bloodshed between Voron and some American agencies. Maybe even some of your agents currently in Russia were in danger, Leonard, that I don't know. All I know is that I have a guilty man to find, and I need to know if Fujiwara is the one or not. Can you give me proof of his innocence?

_ I...

Leonard fell silent, and the Splinter Cell shook his head dejectedly. All traitors were the same, people seeming above all suspicion until their actions were pushed up front in plain view. Finally the NSA director said quite reluctantly:

_ I must admit that since the beginning of his undercover operation within the CIA, Fujiwara has acted quite strangely, not always following orders. We even started an inquiry, but so far nothing has been proven against him.

_ What if I told you he has met a French DGSE agent called Brosselet several times, a middleman who is closely linked to the remaining members of Meggido?

_ I would have trouble believing you, Fisher.

Sam turned towards Charlie who was already at work, and the tech said, reading a Russian file with Grim translating:

_ Voron was on him too, and we have a file where it says he met a certain Yamato from the CIA no less than six times in the last ten months.

_ You believe a Russian agency?

Sam smiled hearing the incredulous tone of Leonard, but he replied seriously:

_ I have no reason to doubt Voron. They want the head of the one who ordered the murder of their commander, and they asked for my help. And they, unlike some American agencies I know, have truly helped us doing so.

_ Are you saying that the NSA and the CIA haven't helped?

_ No, I'm just saying that the NSA and the CIA are very keen to defend a man that's very suspect, that's all. All I'm asking is a fair investigation on Fujiwara, Leonard, it's not too much to ask, I think. Why has he made Hawkins appear as a culprit if he himself is innocent? And can you justify his meetings with Brosselet?

A few tense seconds passed, then Sam heard Leonard's serious voice rising:

_ All right, Fisher. I'll make this a priority for the NSA. But don't misunderstand me: only the NSA will handle this. Your role ends here. Send us all you have, and we'll take care of Fujiwara.

_ Unacceptable, Sam said calmly, trying to force down his swelling anger. We are the ones on this investigation, Leonard, following McMurdoch's orders. No way we'll let it rot.

_ You don't trust us?

_ Not really. Our two agencies are not at their best relationship, you have to admit that, Leonard. And you yourself haven't done anything to change that.

_ True, Fisher, Leonard admitted with a calmer tone. But now that Fourth Echelon has been dissolved, I know you won't step on our way again, this mission doesn't count. So I'm ready to forgive this lack of trust. But you have enough on your plate, I believe. If truly Fujiwara is a traitor, and I'm starting to believe it too, then is he acting on his own or does he follow orders? And from whom? That's what you'll find, Fisher. Leave Fujiwara to us, please, and in return we'll send all we find on him and his contacts.

Sam thought about it for a few seconds. If they had to protect Mishka and continue investigating, leaving the NSA a field day on the traitor could be a good thing. He shot an interrogative look around him. Briggs, Charlie and Grim all nodded. So he said:

_ Deal, Leonard. We'll leave the scumbag to you. But I want an update on your investigations every six hours, okay?

_ Okay, Fisher, Leonard vowed solemnly. You have my word. And thanks.

_ And I want to interrogate Fujiwara myself when he's arrested.

_ That's a favour I can easily grant. Your reputation as a tough interrogator will serve our purposes as well. I'll keep in touch.

_ Right.

The line went dead, and Sam heaved a huge sigh. He wasn't sure to really trust Leonard, but on the other hand he knew the NSA director was a man who always kept his word. And Grim said calmly:

_ You made the right choice, Sam. We can't be everywhere at once, and the NSA have means to nail him faster than we could do.

_ Yeah, Briggs added, and we have more than enough left for us.

_ About that, Sam said, let's get to work. Charlie, find me all you can on Brosselet and his links with Fujiwara. Grim, you'll be on what's left of Meggido. I want to know if they are behind this and if we are in danger. And Briggs, Kobin's for you. As for me, I'll study Voron's file on Brosselet and Meggido, making sure no Russian men are involved.

The team resumed their jobs, Sam sitting back in front of his computer, and time flew by fast. So when the pilot warned of the imminent landing in Baltimore, the Splinter Cell turned around, eyes stinging, and asked:

_ Anything new?

_ Yes, quite, Charlie said grimly as they all buckled their seat belts. Brosselet is still working for Meggido, under Coudray's orders. Apparently one of the prison jailers has been corrupted, that's how Coudray could order the bombing in Washington and Kossiak's murder. But...

_ What?

_ From what I've found, the tech said dejectedly, since Coudray is about to be sentenced to death, Fujiwara is to be the new Meggido leader, with Brosselet as second-in-command. The organization isn't dead, Sam. They still have a lot of members, including the PanAfrica terrorist group at their orders.

_ That's real bad news, Sam said, and we won't be able to track them down. It would take us twenty years, that'll be a job for the NSA, the CIA, Voron, etc... We're all retired. We'll just take care of Brosselet, Fujiwara will be dealt with by the NSA, and we'll make sure Coudray will be quickly executed.

_ Okay, Charlie nodded.

_ Good job, sonny. Grim?

_ Nothing more than what Charlie found, she said, except that I've got a few more names, but I don't think we're a real target for them, except Mishka for his abilities. And I confirm: Fujiwara will soon become the leader of Meggido. He was Yashvili's boss without a doubt. And he orchestrated the release of Fedorova and she shooting on Mishka. He also ordered Yashvili to warn Kossiak about it.

_ Bastard! Sam raged. Well, now we know what happened. And I've found nothing on the Russian side. The blame is only an American one, for once. Briggs?

_ Kobin looks like he's out of these Meggido schemes, the ops said with a grimace. But he's without a doubt guilty of having talked to Yashvili about us, our habits and states of mind...

_ That's probably how they could anticipate your presence at the airport, Grim said sadly.

_ I want to strangle him with my bare hands, Sam said with fury.

_ … but he's been forced to, Briggs finished seriously.

_ What do you mean? Charlie asked.

_ He's been in couple with a Greek woman named Sophia Papadopulos for about three years now, he explained. And this woman has been kidnapped three months ago, clearly on Fujiwara and Coudray's orders. So Kobin, to see her alive and safe again, has had no choice but to cooperate. He sent some of his men to investigate, but they all have been killed nastily. You don't want the details.

_ No, Grim agreed, looking pale. But then...

_ … Voron will kidnap Kobin, if it isn't done yet, Sam said. Which means this woman is in grave danger. We must find her. Charlie?

_ On it, Sam! I'll take my laptop.

The team disembarked from the plane who had finally stopped, and they ran to Briggs' car. He drove swiftly through the clogged trafic, taking short cuts and hairpin turns enough to make Sam's stomach churn unpleasantly. He shot a look behind him: on the back seat Grim was tightly gripping the door handle, paler than ever and obviously fighting a rising nausea, but Charlie was buried in his laptop as if nothing special was happening.

At long last, Briggs floored the brakes in front of Kestrel's house, and the whole team ran outside. They met the first two agents in the hall after having rung the doorbell, and Elena went to welcome them, looking relieved:

_ Good evening! I'm so happy to see you all!

_ Hi, Elena, Sam said, echoed by the team. How're things?

_ Nothing for the moment, she answered as Ben came into the room, grinning. Everything's all right so far.

_ And we'll make sure they stay that way, Ben said, shaking hands with his father-in-law.

_ Good, Sam nodded. So we'll...

_ Got her!

He turned towards Charlie who had settled in the kitchen with his computer and was looking at him in triumph:

_ She's detained in the US, Sam!

_ Where? the Splinter Cell asked, coming behind his tech and looking at the screen, the team right behind him.

_ Miami, Charlie said, showing a map of the city. Her captors made her travel with her passport, and I've formally IDed her when they landed. I even have the faces of the two men escorting her. Meggido members, lesser ones. I followed them into the city thanks to the surveillance cameras, and I can tell you they're in an abandoned warehouse in the outskirts of Miami. They're still there, as far as I can tell.

_ Good job, Charlie. Find all you can on her captors. Grim, you will plan a rescue operation for Briggs and me as soon as possible.

_ Copy, Sam, she said, extracting her own laptop from her case and sitting down next to Charlie.

_ Briggs, he ordered his ops. Say hello to your wife, then go collect our equipment. Here's our key, mine is in my office, in the wardrobe.

_ Right, Sam, the ops said before meeting his wife, alerted by Ben, in the living room.

_ And now, Sam said with a sigh, I'll go and see Mishka and Ben.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Sam exited the kitchen and walked towards Kestrel's bedroom, following Elena. He asked her on the way:

_ How are you, Elena?

_ Not bad, Sam, thanks, she said as they passed in front of Aliosha's bedroom.

The Splinter Cell saw inside Ben entertaining a laughing Aliosha with some teddy bears, and he stopped for a few seconds. Ben flashed him a smile, and Aliosha turned round. Noticing Sam he exclaimed:

_ Grandpa Sam!

The little boy hastily got up from his bed and ran to Sam who opened his arms and hugged him warmly.

_ Hello, Aliosha! How are you?

_ I'm fine, Grandpa Sam! Ben is playing with me.

_ That's nice. But can I borrow him for a few seconds, please?

_ Yes.

The boy pouted a little, but Elena told him with a kiss on his forehead:

_ Grandma Anna is there too, sweetheart. In the kitchen.

_ Cool!

Aliosha ran away happily, leaving Elena and Sam with Ben. The agent rose from the carpet as Sam asked him:

_ So, Ben?

_ Nothing dramatic, Sam, the agent answered seriously. I can't tell if we're still under surveillance, but it looks like we're alone at last.

_ Maybe it won't last, Sam sighed. We're investigating to see who's behind this and why exactly they want Mishka, but now we have an emergency. It'll be a long night, and maybe another long day for you and your team, Ben.

_ Vic told us to be at your disposal, Sam. If Elena agrees...

_ I agree, the Russian doctor nodded immediately. I once made a mistake by not listening to Mishka, and for that I've been attacked home with Aliosha's life and mine at stake. So if it's necessary...

_ It is, Elena, Sam confirmed gently. But don't worry, it won't last long. Some big agencies are on it with Fourth Echelon, so it's only a matter of hours, maybe days at most.

_ Then it's okay with me, she smiled. Mishka and Aliosha's safety first.

_ Good.

Sam nodded at his son-in-law who nodded in return, then he went back to the corridor and headed for Kestrel's bedroom, still followed by Elena. He asked, pausing in front of the door:

_ Is he really starting to wake up?

_ I hope so, she simply said. He's reacting to the people around him and some of our sentences with his little finger. But nothing more so far. It can take some time or be quick now, we have to wait and see.

He nodded then opened the door. Around the bed, two men were standing guard on chairs, looking alert and wary. They briefly tensed when Sam stepped inside, but one of them soon recognized the Splinter Cell and they rose in unison, the guy saying with respect:

_ Mr Fisher. We'll leave you.

_ Thank you, guys.

The last one closed the door behind him as Sam walked next to his lying ops, on his right side. He sat down and gently grabbed his hand, saying with a soft voice:

_ Hello, sonny. It's Sam. We're there at last, you have nothing to fear anymore. The team is here too, they say hello.

Sam felt the ops' little finger twitch in his hand, and he smiled in happiness. Across the bed, Elena was smiling too, her eyes riveted on her fiancé. Sam went on, taking a deep breath:

_ We're starting to see better in this huge mess, sonny. You were right, by the way. The leads we have confirm it's some Meggido bastard, a NSA agent infiltrated in the CIA. And it seems that Kobin is involved, but against his will. He's dating a Greek girl since three years ago, and she's been kidnapped to give Meggido some leverage on him. She's detained in Miami, so Briggs and I will go and save her. Kobin will be abducted by your former Voron friends and shipped back to Baltimore so we can chat nicely. We've been quite busy, as you can hear, he smiled faintly.

Kestrel's whole hand gripped his own for half a second, and Sam, stunned, watched Kestrel's motionless face intently. He asked him, not daring believe what he had felt:

_ You can grip my hand, now, sonny, can't you?

Once more, Kestrel's hand squeezed his, and Sam shot a look at Elena who was crying in joy. He cleared his throat, forcing down his own emotion, and asked gently:

_ Can you move some other part of your body, Mishka? Your other hand, the one Elena is holding?

He saw clearly the ops' left hand squeeze Elena's one, and the woman burst into tears. She stammered:

_ I'm so happy, любимый _(darling)_! Soon you'll be up on your feet with us!

Kestrel gripped her hand again, and she kissed him happily, caressing his cheeks. Sam, fighting his urge to dissolve into tears, took a deep breath and said:

_ Now all you have to do is find your way towards the light, sonny. Open your eyes.

But this time, nothing happened. Only Kestrel's hands answered, lightly squeezing Sam and Elena's ones. His face remained still. However, it was a huge improvement, Sam thought, and Elena wouldn't say otherwise. So he gripped the ops' hand a little harder and said:

_ Doesn't matter, sonny. You need time. And I'm absolutely sure you'll soon wake up completely. In the meantime, rest and take your time.

Kestrel's hand stayed still, and Sam assumed the ops had fallen asleep or was too tired to react anymore, so he rose and said, gently withdrawing his hand:

_ I'll be around, sonny. Well, I'll have to go to Miami but I'll be right back afterwards for your awakening, I promise.

He quietly exited the room and went back to the kitchen. Grim and Charlie were still intent on their work, but Grim took the time to raise her head and tell him:

_ Briggs left two minutes ago. One of the agents went with him, Ben insisted. And they will fetch dinner for all of us.

_ Good, Sam nodded. And Mishka can squeeze hands now. He's reacting more and more, and hears everything around him.

_ That's wonderful! Grim and Charlie chorused, grinning widely.

_ Yes, Sam acknowledged. So, where are you?

_ The rescue operation won't be easy, Sam, Grim warned calmly, regaining her professional tone. But I think you'll succeed with a good planning and some hacking beforehand.

_ Just what I want to hear, he approved. And you, Charlie?

_ I think four men are guarding Sophia Papadopulos, the tech answered seriously. Two ex-soldiers and two rookies. I'm still digging to avoid any nasty surprises.

_ Good. Keep up the work, you're doing well.

_ Tell me something I don't know, Sam, Charlie said absent-mindedly, resuming his work.

Sam exchanged an amused look with Grim before turning towards Elena and Molly who entered the kitchen. Seriousness crept back on all the faces as Elena asked calmly but with a spark of worry in her eyes:

_ So, Sam? What's happening?

_ Sit down, he said, doing the talk. It's a long story.

By the time he had explained everything to the two appalled women, Briggs and the agent had come back and brought the promised food. So the Fourth Echelon team ate in the kitchen with Molly and Elena while Coste's men relayed themselves in the living room with Aliosha who refused to eat without his new friend Ben. While eating her burrito, Elena asked gravely:

_ So we can't trust the CIA now, can we?

_ Better not until we have more info, Briggs told her darkly. But we'll soon know who's with us and who's after Mishka.

_ And when we know, Sam added with growing fury, they'll bitterly regret what they did. Especially this Fujiwara. I shall deal personally with him, right before I ship him gift-wrapped to Moscow.

_ What about the NSA? Grim objected. Leonard...

_ Leonard will do me this favour, Sam cut her gently. It's the only way to avoid a bloodshed, and better send him to Russia and know he won't harm anybody anymore, right?

_ Yes, she admitted half-heartedly.

_ Sam is right, Briggs said calmly. Voron asked for the culprit's head. Such was the deal. And for my part, I won't lose sleep on this traitor's fate. He must pay for what he did to all of us, and most of all to Mishka.

_ I couldn't have said it better, the Splinter Cell said with a faint smile.

_ One thing is bothering me, Grim said after a few seconds of silence. What about the CIA? How will they react when they learn about Fujiwara's treason? Are there other accomplices inside the agency?

_ Charlie will find out, Sam said, shooting an interrogative look at the tech who nodded with a wicked grin.

_ I'm not planning to sleep tonight, Charlie said, looking excited. If Elena has some coffee, and maybe a jar of peanut butter...

_I have some, the Russian doctor told him with a smile. For Molly, but I think we can spare one jar.

_ Absolutely, Molly nodded with a beam, caressing her very swollen womb.

_ Good, the tech grinned. So, the operation in Miami and the CIA's accomplices. Piece of cake.

_ I'll have to sleep a little bit, Sam said regretfully, if I want to be in good shape for the rescue operation.

_ You and Anna can have our guests' bedroom, Elena announced. The bed is made. It's the bedroom just before Mishka's one.

_ Okay, Elena. Thanks a lot. What about you, Briggs?

_ I'll try and catch a few Z's on the sofa, if it's okay, the ops said calmly. A couple of hours should be enough. But what about you, Molly dear?

_ You can sleep in my bed, Molly, Elena told her gently. I'm much too stressed out to sleep yet. And if I feel tired, maybe you won't mind if I sleep next to you?

_ Not at all, Elena! Thanks a lot.

_ That's settled, then, Sam said. I'll have two or three hours of sleep, then we'll take stock of the situation.

Everybody rose and spread out into the house. Sam, Grim on his heels, went straight for the bedroom and lay down under a thick blanket. He barely had the time to kiss Grim before falling asleep.

The ringing of his smartphone woke up up abruptly, and he groaned softly. He fumbled for the bloody thing, and sat up when he saw the ID displayed: Jdan. He answered immediately:

_ Fisher.

_ Sam Fisher, the job is done. My men are en route to Baltimore with Kobin. He's okay, but they had to put up a good fight to subdue him.

_ Are your men okay? he asked while Grim sat up next to him, looking tired and disheveled.

_ Yes, no problem. But Kobin will have quite a bonk on the head. He didn't go quietly.

_ Doesn't matter. Good job, Georgiuy Antonovich. When will they arrive?

_ In about seven hours, the Russian commander said seriously. You'll have to go inside the cargo hold, Sam Fisher. My men can't disembark, they don't have passports. Kobin will be there.

_ Give me the details, and we'll do the rest.

Sam found a pen and some paper, and hastily wrote the numbers Jdan gave him. When it was done, the Russian asked him:

_ What about the culprit, then? Do you have news?

_ Yes, Georguiy Antonovich. We're almost certain to have found the man. We need to check some last details, but soon I'll escort him to Moscow.

_ Good news. I'm waiting for your call, Sam Fisher.

_ You can count on me, Georguiy Antonovich, Sam promised.

He hung up and put his hand on Grim's arm, who was having real trouble keeping her eyes open.

_ Sleep, my love, he said kindly. I'll wake you up when we need you.

She didn't wait to be told twice and lay back on the bed, falling asleep in the next second. Sam, smiling to himself, gently kissed her cheek then got up. He silently made his way to the kitchen, where Charlie was still intent on his laptop while eating large spoonfuls of peanut butter. He asked him:

_ So, Charlie?

_ It's okay for Miami, Sam, the tech replied calmly. I can assure you there are only the four men I talked you about. If Briggs and you are careful, it should be all right.

_ Good. And what about the CIA?

_ Aside from Fujiwara, the agency is clean, Sam. But I've found an accomplice in the NSA...

_ What a surprise, the Splinter Cell grumbled unhappily.

_ … and one in Voron, Charlie finished with a grimace.

_ What? Who?

_ Aleksandr Ivanovich Karavayev, the tech read carefully. He was Vikachev's usual partner. Mishka worked with him three times, he seems specialized in manhandling people.

_ Like his late partner, Sam scowled. Bad news. And the one in the NSA?

_ A lesser member, named Stanley Richmond. He and Karavayev are new members of Meggido.

_ Jdan and Leonard will be so happy, he said ironically. Make some good files, Charlie, please, to be handed to them. Our work ends with Fujiwara, they'll deal with their own traitors.

_ I'm almost done, Sam. After that, I'll take the second sofa.

_ You'd better. In about seven hours, Kobin arrives in Baltimore. And right after that, we fly to Miami.

_ Okay.

Sam went back to the guests' bedroom, but he went to see Kestrel on his way. The ops, still flanked by two bodyguards, one of them being Ben, was lying on his bed like nothing happened in the world. Sam shot a look at Ben who shook his head:

_ No movement, Sam.

_ Have you talked to him?

_ No, the agent said, quite surprised. Can he hear us?

_ You wouldn't believe how well, Sam said, coming next to the motionless ops.

He sat on Ben's chair who had risen and was at the foot of the bed while the other agent muttered something about a coffee and exited the room. The Splinter Cell gently took Kestrel's hand and said:

_ Hello, sonny! It's the middle of the night, but things are in motion. Kobin will land in seven hours, and we'll go and fetch him. After that, we fly to Miami to save his girlfriend, then we come back and end this mission.

He felt his hand squeezed by Kestrel's one and smiled faintly. He wished he could have the ops covering Briggs and him with his sniper, but that would be impossible. They would have to be patient. He said:

_ Now we'll have some rest, sonny, before flying to Miami. And when I...

He stopped, not believing his eyes. Unless he was hallucinating, Kestrel was trying to open his eyes. His eyelids were moving, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Even better, the ops' whole body shuddered, like he was trying to shake himself out of his slumber. Sam said hurriedly to his son-in-law:

_ Go and fetch Elena, Ben! Quick!

The agent dashed out of the bedroom while Sam asked Kestrel:

_ Can you wake up now, sonny? Are you ready to see the light again?

Kestrel groaned feebly, his hand gripping hard Sam's one as if using him as anchorage to pull himself out of the coma. In the next second, Elena and Molly, awakened by Ben, ran into the room and went opposite Sam on Kestrel's left side. Elena had grabbed her doctor's case and said, her voice cracking under a powerful emotion:

_ It's me, my love. I'm going to check on you, okay?

The ops emitted a louder groan, obviously trying very hard to open his eyes, and gripped Sam's hand even harder. The Splinter Cell didn't protest, but his crushed fingers were at near breaking point. He just hoped Kestrel would let go of him before breaking all his knuckles. Elena took out her sthetoscope and listened to the ops' heart and breathing, then carefully opened each one of his eyes and peered at them with a small flashlight. Her fiancé emitted a muffled groan, and she quickly let go. She said, taking and kissing his hand:

_ You're about to wake up, my love. Be strong, and go on! We're all waiting for you, but take your time. You're all right, and will be even more when awake with us.

Sam watched during what seemed like hours the small movements his ops made, but only took a few minutes. Then at long last, Kestrel's eyes opened slowly and with difficulty. His gaze, unfocused at first, soon fixed upon Elena and he murmured with a very hoarse voice:

_ Lena.

The young doctor nodded and dissolved into tears, throwing herself on her fiancé's chest. Sam felt Kestrel's hand letting go of his, and while massaging his aching fingers he saw the ops' arms slowly rising and hugging Elena against him. He heard a faint whisper in Russian:

_ I love you, Lena. I'm so sorry.

_ I love you too, she said in the same language, still hugging and kissing the ops. And don't be sorry. I'm so happy you're awake at last, my love!

They cuddled for a few more minutes before Elena remembered Sam and Molly around them, and she carefully rose, telling Kestrel who looked more awake:

_ My love, our friends are here too. Sam, Molly...

The Splinter Cell saw with a growing emotion Kestrel's eyes turning towards Molly and his smile to the weeping woman. Then he turned his head and locked eyes with Sam, and said with difficulty in English:

_ Hi, Daddy! Thanks... for everything.

Sam, unable to contain his joy and relief, rose and embraced his ops who had opened his arms. And as he felt Kestrel's strong arms around him again, he fought back a sob building in his chest. It was such a good moment! he dimly thought as they embraced for a few more seconds. Then he gently pulled away as the ops' arms were starting to shake, and asked him:

_ Are you tired, sonny? Because I'd bet the team would see you for a few minutes.

_ Only for a few minutes, Sam, Elena said protectively. He needs rest.

_ I know, he nodded in agreement but his eyes staying on Kestrel.

_ I'd like... to see them too, Kestrel murmured. But first... my love... could I have... a glass of water... please?

Sam hastily left with a wide grin on his face. He had some people to wake up.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** **Hi everyone! The last chapter of the year, I'm afraid, as I'll go spend the holidays in my family. So I won't be able to update till the beginning of January. But chapter 18 is already started, so it shouldn't take me more than three weeks to update! ;) Enjoy and review, and have a very merry Christmas and a happy New Year!**

Chapter 17

When Sam shook his shoulder, Briggs was having a nightmare, so he wasn't too angry at the Splinter Cell for waking him up after only three hours of sleep. But when he heard from his delighted boss that Kestrel had awaken at last, he asked, not really believing it:

_ It's true? Mishka's awake?

_ Yes, Sam nodded, his eyes twinkling and more happy than Briggs had seen him in a very long time. He's just awakened, and we can see him for a few minutes.

_ Brilliant! Briggs said loudly, making Charlie jump on the sofa opposite his own. I'll go see him, then!

He jumped to his feet and sped to his best friend's bedroom. In there he saw Elena, seated next to the ops, and Molly and Grim who were talking quietly with them. But when Kestrel saw him, he smiled faintly and said with a hoarse voice, eyes sparkling with humor and happiness:

_ Awake at last, мой друг _(my friend)_? We were waiting for you.

_ You... you little bastard...

Briggs, chest constricted with emotion, couldn't continue and he just went into his friend's outstretched arms, telling him with his embrace how much he had worried for him and how happy he was to see him alive and okay. And Kestrel hugged him tightly too, making it clear that he was much more moved than he was letting on in front of the women. They pulled apart and Briggs said with a would-be severe voice but that came out as a relieved one:

_ Don't do that ever again, mate, do you hear me? Worrying us out of our minds, nearly dying and all that! No more of this nonsense!

_ I'll do my best, Kestrel promised with a smile, squeezing Elena's hand as Sam and Charlie entered the room. I don't really enjoy being in a coma and on the verge of death, мой друг.

_ Mishka! Charlie said happily.

_ Hello, Charlie!

The two men shook hands and Briggs listened to the moved tech, telling Kestrel how much he had missed him. Then Charlie took a step back and Kestrel said calmly after taking a deep breath:

_ I wanted to thank all of you. I've heard everything from the moment I was put in a coma, and I know you've worried much and supported me even more. So thank you. I'm glad to be awake and able to tell you this at last.

Briggs noticed his best friend's bright eyes and said after clearing his throat:

_ Now you're out of this and with us, mate. That's all that matters.

Kestrel nodded and Charlie asked him timidly:

_ You almost died, Mishka. How can you be still alive? Sam told us...

_ Sam told you what he saw and heard, Kestrel cut him softly while caressing Elena's hand and shooting a look at the Splinter Cell' saddened face. It's true that when we arrived at the hospital I exhaled what I thought was my last breath. But the medical crew did everything they could to revive me, I could hear them in a daze. And they succeeded. What really saved me, I think, was the medically-induced coma. It allowed me to heal, even if I almost... lost courage.

He shot a troubled look at Elena who hugged him and told him lovingly:

_ It's over, любимый _(darling)_. Now you're here, with us.

He nodded, still looking troubled, and Briggs suddenly wondered if his friend was as much okay as he was letting on. Thrice he had been plunged against his will into a coma, losing days and months of his life each time. Maybe this last experience wouldn't leave him unscathed. As if reading his thoughts, Sam told him, putting his hand on the ops' arm in an affectionate gesture:

_ Elena's right, sonny. Now you're awake, and fully alive. You didn't die, concentrate on being alive.

Kestrel nodded again, but his gaze wandered towards the window, not completely hiding his disarray. Sam rose and said calmly:

_ I think we'll leave you now with Elena, sonny. We have work to do before going to Miami, and you two need time alone.

Briggs winked at his boss and went to follow him out of the bedroom when Kestrel spoke again, his voice cracking for the first time in years:

_ Take care, all of you.

Only Sam and Briggs were still in the room and heard him, aside from Elena, but the Splinter Cell backtracked and, under Briggs' moved stare, went to embrace Kestrel once more. And finally, after all that had happened to him, the ops' tough shell cracked. He buried his face into Sam's shoulder and wept. Sam just held him, sitting on the bed, and Elena, weeping too, caressed her fiancé's hand and arm. Then their boss said:

_ What happened to you was my fault, sonny. You saved me again, and paid a high price for it. I'll never be able to repay you back, but I won't let you despair. Never again. You shook me out of my depressed state, but now's not your turn. You need time, sonny. You're just out of a deep coma, you need to gather your bearings and be with your family.

Briggs saw Kestrel nod and pull away wiping his bloodshot eyes, but before he could answer Briggs heard a hesitant "Mama?" in the corridor. He checked his watch and saw 4.07 am, but apparently Aliosha was already awake. And a few seconds later, as Sam had barely had time to rise and Kestrel to regain some composure the small boy ran into the room and shrieked with delight at the top of his voice:

_ Daddy!

_ Hello, ребёнок _(child)!_ Kestrel said with a large grin, obviously rejoicing at seeing his "son". How are you?

_ I'm fine! Daddy, you're awake! At last!

_ Yes, ребёнок. It took me a long time, but now I'm awake.

Briggs saw Kestrel's eyes bright again as he hugged Aliosha who had jumped onto the bed, and Sam and he quietly exited the room. He went to the kitchen where the team and Molly were waiting for them, and he went to hug his wife. Then Sam said:

_ I hate to say that, but we have some work. So...

_ Okay, Sam, Molly nodded.

She kissed Briggs a last time then went to the living room and sat on the sofa with a stifled groan, holding her back and her big belly. Briggs followed her with his eyes, then turned towards his boss. Sam said, checking his watch:

_ Kobin will arrive in a little less than four hours. So, in the meantime, I suggest we work on Brosselet. Grim, any news from the NSA?

_ Surprisingly, there is, she said, watching her computer. Leonard held his word, it seems. They found all proofs to arrest Fujiwara, who should be in their custody by now. I assume we'll soon have a call.

_ Good, Sam nodded. So, to work, everybody! Charlie, Brosselet's current location. Grim, his links with Meggido and what he's up to right now. Briggs, his accomplices in the DGSE if there are any.

The ops nodded and asked:

_ Very well, Sam, but is there a computer for me?

_ Shit, the Splinter Cell frowned. I hadn't thought about that.

_ Why don't we go back to the Paladin? Grim suggested. We need to be at the airport for Kobin then after to fly to Miami.

_ Good idea, my love.

Charlie and Grim gathered their gear while Sam went to tell Kestrel and Elena that they would leave. And Briggs went to see Molly. In the last minute she had fallen asleep on the sofa, using cushions to ease her swollen womb, and Briggs smiled faintly. He grabbed the blanket he had used and covered her with it, kissing her. Then he joined his team in the hall and they waited for Sam who came back a minute later. He said with a meaningful look to his ops:

_ Mishka is feeling better already.

_ Good, Grim said, not suspecting a double meaning. I hope he'll soon be on his feet.

_ Me too. But now we should go. I told Ben we're leaving, he and his men are staying sharp.

Briggs led them to the car and drove them to the airport. They soon arrived at the Paladin and set to work. While concentrating on Brosselet and the DGSE, Briggs vaguely heard Sam organizing the coming events. But he soon buried himself into his task and only emerged when Sam said loudly:

_ Voron's plane is landing.

_ Where will we put Kobin? Grim asked as Sam and Briggs prepared themselves.

_ In one of the cells.

Briggs caught a faint smile on Grim's lips and the appalled look on Charlie's face, but he forced down his thoughts. Kobin was a valuable source of intel, so he would protect him, but nothing more. He was much too resentful towards the arms dealer who had made Sam and Kestrel suffer too much in the past to have any kind of compassionate thoughts. And even if he would soon go to Miami to rescue his girlfriend, that didn't mean he wanted to be close to Kobin.

_ Sam, Charlie started, mustering his courage. Maybe we could give him a...

_ A what? Briggs cut him sharply. A second chance? Aren't we at the fourth or fifth already? He doesn't deserve a nice treatment, Charlie. I'll never forget or forgive what he did to Sam and Mishka. Never. Nice enough of us to save his sorry skin from Meggido, and go to save his girlfriend.

_ Briggs is right, Sam said. Enough on this.

Charlie kept silent but Briggs could see he was disappointed. However Grim smiled faintly at them before resuming her work, and he and Sam got out of the plane. They headed towards the big Antonov who was stopping a few hundred meters away, and boarded the plane just as the ramp went down. In the cargo hold, they saw Kobin, gagged, bound from head to toe and looking outraged and frightened, flanked by two Voron agents. Briggs recognized them: Ivkin and Kniazev, their favourite opponents. Sam talked first, addressing Ivkin:

_ Nice job, Miroslav Grigorovich. One package delivered safely.

_ It wasn't easy, Sam Fisher, the Russian agent said, but Voron kept its word. Now we'll wait for you in Moscow with the culprit.

_ And you'll have him soon, Sam assured calmly. I think in a week at the latest.

_ Good, Ivkin nodded. So we're done here.

He let go of Kobin and Sam and Briggs grabbed the squirming arms dealer. Sam said with a nasty smile:

_ Hi, Andriy! Welcome to the States!

_ Hmmmmm! Kobin protested, eyes wild.

_ Yeah, don't bother to thank us, Briggs said through gritted teeth as they disembarked from the Antonov, steering the prisoner towards the Paladin. It's not as if we saved your life once again by having you kidnapped by Voron. Meggido couldn't have found and killed you, no.

_ And it's not like we're going to fly to Miami to save your girlfriend, Sam added resentfully as they stepped onto the boarding ramp. Risking our lives again to thank you for having betrayed us.

They marched to the control room and Briggs saw Charlie and Grim raising their heads at their approach. Charlie looked pained, but Grim only nodded and said calmly:

_ Hello, Kobin. Make yourself at ease.

The arms dealer emitted a muffled protest again, but Sam ignored it and led him to the detention block, Briggs and he still half-dragging their prey. Then they arrived in front of one of the cells, and Sam opened it. He dragged Kobin inside and removed his gag and the rope binding his feet and hands.

_ At last! Kobin said, gingerly feeling his jaws and massaging his wrists. What a welcome! So it's you I have to thank for this first-class trip?

_ Yeah, Sam growled, eyeing him with a furious stare.

_ Listen, Fisher, Kobin started, looking embarrassed. I'm sorry for what happened. I really am. They forced me to talk, and...

_ We know that, the Splinter Cell cut him with a dangerous voice.

_ I didn't have any choice! They have Sophia!

_ You could've warned us, Briggs said angrily. We would've helped you.

_ I wasn't sure, Kobin admitted bitterly. After all I had done to you, I... I wasn't sure you would agree to help me and protect Sophia.

_ And you were right, Sam said, eyes shining with fury. But at least helping you would've been our safest option. Because of you Mishka almost died!

_ Mishka?

_ Kestrel, Briggs explained.

_ Oh, right. Well, I told you I was sorry.

Sam looked on the verge of hitting Kobin, but he restrained himself at the last moment and exited the detention block, slamming the door behind him. Briggs said, disgusted:

_ You're safe for now, Andriy. And we'll fly to Miami to save your girlfriend. More than you deserve. So you'd better stay quiet and behave, for your own sake.

_ Briggs, I...

_ Shut up! the ops suddenly yelled, losing patience. For once in your life, Kobin, just shut up! And be ready to answer our questions when we come back from Miami.

_ Questions? Kobin said fearfully.

_ Nothing to be afraid of, Briggs said, locking the cell behind him. We have questions about Yashvili and Brosselet, and what you know about Meggido and the mess about us.

_ But...

_ Save your breath, the ops advised, a hand on the door handle of the detention block. I'm not ready to hear you yet, and neither is Sam. But when he comes for your intel, I suggest you answer all his questions if you know what's good for you, Andriy. You've pushed your luck pretty far, I'd say.

And for once, Kobin shut his mouth and hung his head in shame. Shaking his head, Briggs exited the block and locked the thick door behind him. In the control room, Sam was pacing around the console, looking about to explode. Wisely, Grim and Charlie were ignoring him and focusing on their task, and Briggs thought he had better do the same. He sat down in front of his computer, and five minutes later the pilot warned the passengers of the imminent take-off.

Briggs buckled his seat belt and went on with his task as finally Sam sat down next to him, muttering under his breath some nice things about a certain son of a bitch in the detention block. But he stayed focused on his job, concentrating on the DGSE. And when they were about to land in Miami, Sam asked aloud:

_ So?

_ Nothing on the DGSE, Sam, Briggs answered calmly. Brosselet is most probably the only Meggido member inside the French agency.

_ Good, the Splinter Cell nodded. Charlie? Where is he?

_ In the US, the tech said seriously, but I'm still trying to find him more precisely.

_ We'll take care of him here, then. Stay sharp. Grim?

_ Nothing new, Sam, she told him darkly. I can't tell you what he's planning right now. But I'm starting to gather a few names of the new Meggido organization.

_ Can you make a list?

_ Of course.

_ Then do it, please. Our dear friends will soon have some homework.

_ What do you mean? she asked, frowning.

_ Our job ends here, in Miami, Sam explained calmly. After rescuing Kobin's girlfriend, we go back to Baltimore and take care of Fujiwara. You'll give your list to the NSA, the CIA and Voron. They'll do the cleansing. And we'll see about Brosselet.

_ But...

_ Grim, he said seriously, locking eyes with her. It's over for us. Fourth Echelon is dissolved. We've done what we were asked to do, or at least we'll be when we escort Fujiwara to Moscow. Our job ends there. We won't spend another two years tracking down all Meggido members. The time to pass the torch has come.

Briggs saw Grim nod approvingly, looking relieved, and he caught a faint smile on Charlie's lips. Sam looked at peace with all of this, he thought dimly, and that was good. The ops himself was happy to know they would end their task very soon and see their family again in no time. But they had a last mission to do, and he needed to stay alert for that. It would be pretty stupid to get killed on a rescue mission for Kobin's girlfriend, he thought bitterly. Grim's voice shook him out of his thoughts:

_ When do I send the list to the agencies, then?

_ As soon as we're done here, Sam answered, getting up as the plane had stopped moving. Tell them the other agencies have the list too.

_ Why?

_ Competition, Briggs explained with a ruthless smile, noticing a wicked gleam in the Splinter Cell's eyes. It'll be the race for the trophies, and a good thing for the end of Meggido which shall disappear much sooner than expected.

_ Yeah, Sam acknowledged. And I won't bet on the best agency for that sort of work.

_ Me neither, Briggs said.

Grim smiled a little and started:

_ Then I'll have lunch ready before you...

_ Yes! Charlie exclaimed loudly, thrusting his fist in the air. Got him! He's here!

_ Who, Brosselet? Briggs asked in bewilderment.

_ Yes, the tech nodded, regaining a serious composure. He's with the guards of Sophia, I tracked him thanks to the surveillance cameras.

_ Why is he here? Grim wondered. Kobin's girlfriend can't know anything, it's...

Briggs saw her suddenly turning towards her computer, typing frantically, and five minutes later she growled:

_ A trap. It's a trap for us.

_ Grim? Sam asked her, eyebrows furrowing.

She sent her data on the SMI and the team gathered around the console. She explained, pointing to a photo and a look of intense disgust on her face:

_ Sophia Papadopulos.

_ But... Sam started.

_ Lebedeva! Briggs shouted, not believing his eyes. Isn't it? The one who's been arrested in Saint Petersburg five years ago! Ex-Voron agent!

_ You're right, Briggs, Grim sighed unhappily.

_ What does that mean? Sam said, scowling. How could she pretend to be Greek?

_ And what is she doing here? Briggs asked in fury. Is her kidnapping genuine?

_ Of course not, Grim shook her head. She was with Fedorova five years ago, I'm fairly certain she hasn't changed sides. And why is she with Kobin?

_ Kobin's been used, Sam said darkly. He was to be our downfall, as always. So, what do we do now?


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** **Happy New Year to all! Enjoy this new chapter, and please leave a review!**

Chapter 18

_ We call Jdan, Grim told Sam very calmly, who was trying to hide his anger. Ask what happened between Saint Petersburg and today for Lebedeva to be free and in the US after three years in Greece pretending to be Kobin's girlfriend.

He nodded and dialed the Voron commander number, who answered quickly:

_ Да?

_ Hello, Georguiy Antonovich, Sam said. I have a question for you.

_ Sam Fisher, I was waiting for your call. What about the culprit?

_ Nearly there, but we've been sidetracked a little. I wanted to know where is Lebedeva?

_ Maria Antonova Lebedeva? Jdan asked in real surprise. You know where she is?

_ I knew it, Sam said a little impatiently. Voron had her in custody five years ago, what happened in the meantime?

_ She escaped, Jdan admitted with shame. Had help from someone on our side, but we never knew who or where she had gone to, although we searched very hard for her and her accomplices.

_ I see, Sam only said, restraining his fury. Well, Georguiy Antonovich, she's in Miami after having spent three years in Greece as Kobin's girlfriend.

_ Этого не может вбыть! _(It isn't possible!)_

_ It _is_ possible, Sam countered him darkly. And now I have another question: what do we do with her and her accomplices who had sprung a trap for me and my team here?

_ I happen to have sent the two agents who escorted Andriy Kobin near Miami for another matter, Jdan said after a few seconds of silence. Would you agree to set up a joint operation to neutralize her and her accomplices?

_ I agree on one condition, Georguiy Antonovich. Lebedeva won't be killed. She'll be arrested and taken in custody. Your agents and me will interrogate her before you can have her back to Russia and dispose of her as you see fit.

Sam, jaws tightly clenched, saw that his team knew he wouldn't back down on that matter. Lebedeva had very probably a lot of answers to their questions, they couldn't miss such an occasion. And after thirty seconds of thick silence, Jdan's voice raised through the loudspeaker:

_ Agreed, Sam Fisher, as long as my men bring her back to Moscow.

_ You have my word, Sam said coldly, visibly sending shivers down Grim's spine. We don't need her here. And about a traitor on your side...

_ Do you have a name? And proofs?

_ Yes. Aleksandr Ivanovich Karavayev.

_ Cукин сын! _(Son of a bitch!)_ I'll have his skin!

_ We'll give our file on him to your agents, Georguiy Antonovich, Sam said. Plus a nice list of new Meggido members we'll also give to the CIA and NSA. Now's your turn to track them down.

_ I understand, Sam Fisher. You can count on Voron and me.

_ When can your agents be at Miami airport?

_ In an hour. I'll contact them immediately.

_ Good. We'll prep the mission in the meantime.

_ They'll follow your orders, Sam Fisher, Jdan vowed solemnly.

_ Good, Sam repeated. We'll call you back when we're done with it.

_ Good luck.

_ And Georguiy Antonovich? Mishka's awake.

_ That's great news, Sam Fisher. Thanks.

Sam hung up and said calmly but with a hint of anger:

_ Let's get this done so we can go back home. I'm fed up with all these twists and turns. Charlie, the acesses, security surprises and hacking. Grim, the mission and the coordination with Voron. Briggs, prep our gear. I'll have a quick lunch ready.

_ What about Kobin? Grim asked with a grimace.

Sam paused, fury swelling in him, making his veins appear on his forehead, then said while exhaling deeply:

_ We'll tell him later. No need to have a moaning guest.

_ Sam..., Charlie started hesitantly.

_ Enough!

The Splinter Cell strode out of the room, heading to the kitchen to calm down while cooking. He hastily prepared meatballs with pasta and tomato sauce, then, making up his mind, went to the detention block. The team shot him puzzled looks but didn't comment, probably seeing his rage. He wrenched open the thick door and slammed it behind him, startling Kobin who had been dozing off on his bunk.

_ Whoa, Fisher! he said weakly, eyes blinking hard. No need to...

_ Shut up! Sam spat violently, making the arms dealer recoil a littler further away from him, fright on his face. You're nothing than a source of annoyance, Kobin! I'm tired of running everywhere to save your skin, and all the more when you spend your time betraying us and bringing us problems you have no idea about!

Kobin stayed silent, head hung low, and Sam exhaled a long time, trying to calm down. He had bad news, after all, so he would have to keep his fury under control. He gave himself ten seconds to cool down, then said rather calmly:

_ We won't go save your girlfriend.

_ What? Kobin asked in alarm, raising his head and jumping on his feet. But you told me...

_ Things have changed, he cut him. Your girlfriend's status has changed.

_ Is she... ? She isn't... ?

_ No, she isn't dead. Not yet.

_ Explain yourself, Fisher! Kobin shouted, clearly panic-stricken. What do you mean, not yet?

_ I mean that as long as she's in the US she'll be safe, or as safe as possible with me furious at her. But as soon as she goes back to Russia, I won't promise anything about her good health.

_ I don't...

_ Listen to me, Andriy, Sam said calmly and rather softly. And sit down.

Kobin, still looking lost and anguished, shot him a doubtful look but sat down on his bunk. Sam leaned on the wall and started:

_ Your girlfriend's real name is Maria Antonova Lebedeva. She's Russian, and an ex-Voron agent.

_ What? Kobin exclaimed in bewilderment. But... That's not possible! I've made inquiries on her! Sophia isn't...

_ She is, Sam corrected him, more softly than he would've thought possible. She has powerful allies in Russia and elsewhere. She's a member of Meggido, Kobin.

_ But...

The arms dealer, visibly shocked, got up and paced his small cell in disarray. He suddenly turned towards Sam and asked him vehemently:

_ When have you learned about it, Fisher? When?

_ Ten minutes ago, the Splinter Cell said seriously, keeping calm.

_ This is a nightmare, Kobin murmured, rubbing his face in obvious dismay. Then it means that...

He didn't finish his sentence, but Sam read the end on his face. And as angry as he was towards the scoundrel, he felt some pity for him. But he told him:

_ We're going to fetch her and neutralize her accomplices. And she'll be sent back to Russia.

_ She'll be killed by Voron, Kobin guessed with a mixture of anger and dread on his face.

_ I suppose so.

The arms dealer sat hard on his bunk and put his face in his hands. Sam wasn't surprised to hear stifled sobs, his old adversary seemed much in love with his treacherous girlfriend. He decided to leave him alone to gather his bearings, and opened the thick door. As he was about to leave, Kobin's voice rose, unsteady and stammering:

_ Fisher... You're not making it up, are you? I know I've done you and your team much harm, most of it against my will, but...

_ No, Andriy, he said, shaking his head and locking eyes with the trembling guy. I can't stand you and your countless backstabbings, but I never would've made up something so mean just to take revenge. Lebedeva is our enemy, and we'll take care of her for good. And that means you too will be safe from her.

Kobin nodded, covering his face again, and Sam left him. He went back to the kitchen and checked his meal, and even prepared a tray for the arms dealer. Then he called his team and they all ate quickly, looking grim and focused. After the hasty lunch Grim brought his meal to Kobin and Sam and Briggs went to change for their tac suits. As he was equipping himself with his weapons and grenades in the control room with Charlie's help, the Fourth Echelon's line rang, and Grim answered:

_ Yes?

_ Ms Grimsdottir, a voice Sam recognized as Leonard's one rose in the room, I wanted to tell you that we've done our job. Fujiwara's been arrested a few minutes ago in Atlanta, and he'll be shipped back to Baltimore in the next hour.

_ Good, she said with a smile on her face that probably matched Sam's one. We'll soon go back to Baltimore too, Sam will call you.

_ Right. We won't start interrogating him without you, as promised.

_ Good, she repeated. See you in a few hours, then.

The line went dead, and she told Briggs and him:

_ Now you have to hurry, both of you.

_ We won't make things linger too much, Sam acknowledged. How's the prep?

_ Complete, Charlie said, handing him a small trirotor and some gas grenades. You and the Voron team will face six hostile people, it should be all right.

_ Yes, and all the more since our enemies won't know about Voron, Briggs added, fully equipped and obviously ready to bust heads. I'll drive us, Sam. They're in a warehouse near the docks.

_ Why am I not surprised? he sighed dejectedly. Charlie? Any problems with the approach?

_ Not that I detected.

_ Grim? Any news from our new partners?

_ They should be here any minute now.

As if on cue, Sam's phone rang, and he picked up the call:

_ Fisher.

_ Sam Fisher, it's Ivkin, he heard a voice with a Russian accent in his phone. We're at the foot of the Paladin.

_ Coming, Miroslav Grigorovich, he said, beckoning at Briggs to follow him.

He hung up and the two of them ran to the cargo hold. At the base of the ramp Ivkin and Kniazev were waiting for them, looking impressive in their bulky Voron suit, and Briggs asked them as they all made their way to the control room:

_ Give us the frequency of your earpiece, for the comms.

Kniazev told Charlie some numbers, and in no time the Voron ops were connected to Fourth Echelon. Sam said, appraising his strange team:

_ Okay, so we're expected by our enemies. But they don't know about you guys, he told the Russians. So you'll be our ace up our sleeve. We'll go separately to the warehouse, so Briggs and I will attract attention, and you'll strike them from behind.

_ Here is the plan of the warehouse, Grim said, displaying it on the console and pointing at some parts. So Sam and Briggs will attack front, and Ivkin and Kniazev will sneak inside through this window. No alarms except on the back door, but nobody will go through this one. All the enemies can be killed except Lebedeva.

_ And if we can capture Brosselet, it could be good too, Sam added seriously. He knows a lot too.

_ We'll do as you wish, Ivkin approved. Our commander told us you have the upper hand.

_ Good, Sam smiled faintly. Any questions?

Nobody said a thing, so Sam said:

_ Fine. Let's go.

The four men exited the plane, and Sam saw the Voron ops climbing into their SUV. Charlie had rented one for them too to be delivered at the ramp, so they climbed in it and Briggs drove them to the docks of Miami. During the trip Sam surprised himself thinking about Kestrel. He wondered how the ops was and if he would recover well. In his earpiece Grim's voice jarred him:

_ Sam?

_ Just a second, Grim, he said, realization dawning on him. We'll have codesigns for this mission. Everybody on line?

Briggs, Ivkin and Kniazev all answered, so Sam said:

_ Briggs, you're Red. Ivkin, you're Blue. Kniazev, you're Green. And I'll be Brown.

_ Copy.

_ Да _(yes)_.

_ Да.

_ Okay. Grim?

_ Lots of activity around the warehouse, she said with a tense voice. Around twenty armed people.

_ Shit.

He knew they would have much more difficulty with twenty people waiting for them, but he knew they had faced worse. However he would have to be cautious. He asked her:

_ What do you recommend?

_ I'd wait for some time, she said calmly. Maybe all these people won't stay around and will soon leave.

_ Blue? Green?

_ We agree, Brown, Ivkin's voice resonated in his ear. We'll stay away for a few hours, safest option.

_ Okay. Charlie? Find us safe places to wait.

_ On it, Brown.

Soon the tech sent them the coordinates of two abandoned buildings, and Briggs and he settled down for a few moments. Sam took first watch, allowing Briggs to have a small nap, and he waited for two hours. Then he called Grim and asked her:

_ What's happening now?

_ Still a lot of people, she said, but three have left. I assume some will leave soon too. All are Meggido members, we IDed them. A little more patience, guys.

_ Okay, he said, watching Briggs slowly awaking and stretching. Then it's my turn for a nap.

_ And mine, Ivkin said in his ear.

_ Wake us up in two hours, Grim, Sam said, lying on his side and settling as best he could against the cold cemented floor.

_ Roger that.

Sam's eyes soon closed, and he dozed off in an uneasy sleep. But much too soon Grim's voice woke him up, saying:

_ Time to act. The party is over, it seems. Only the six people expected are still there, the others have gone away, most have boarded planes heading to Europe.

_ Okay, Sam said, yawning and stretching, making his stiff limbs move and checking his watch. Let's go, we attack in thirty minutes.

_ Brown... Grim started, the tiniest of quivering in her voice.

_ Everything's gonna be all right, he said soothingly. We'll be cautious.

She didn't respond, but Sam knew she was worrying much for them, and most of all for him. He swore to himself to be wary and take care of himself and his team as to come back safely to her. Soon Briggs parked two hundred meters away from the warehouse, and they went on foot, taking care to stay away from the lights. Night has fallen on Miami, making their mission easier but requiring more stealth. Charlie said:

_ I can see you four. Nobody on either of your paths. They're all gathered in the warehouse, but I can't see through it.

_ We'll manage, Sam murmured as Briggs and he reached the front door. Infrared vision on, everyone. Smoke grenade. Blue? Green?

_ In position, Ivkin said. We're ready.

Sam exchanged a look with Briggs who looked ready, and nodded. He hastily grabbed the doorhandle and opened the large door, and Briggs threw a smoke grenade inside. Then the ops went in first, HK-416 at his shoulder, and Sam followed him, holding his SC-IS rifle. The two of them slowly advanced through the smoke, but Sam couldn't see anyone through his goggles. Weird, he thought as a tingling sensation crept up and down his spine.

Then, without warning, a sharp pain erupted at the back of his leg, making him stumble and fall heavily on the floor. In front of him, he saw Briggs hit by a dozen darts shot out of nowhere, and his ops fell too, unconscious before touching ground. Then he himself felt some darts penetrating his thick tac suit, and his head started to swim. He murmured, his head spinning fast and his vision blurring:

_ Trap. We've been hit... Darts...

In a daze, he dropped his rifle and vaguely saw a face appear in front of him, a triumphant grin on his face. Brosselet, he thought dimly before losing consciousness.

When he came round, Sam's head was still swimming in a blurred world and his left leg aching, but he suddenly remembered everything. The trap. Briggs and he falling. He shook his head, his vision slowly clearing, and looked around him. He was lying on the floor of the warehouse, bound hand and foot with thin steel cables, and he could see two men next to him, still unconscious. He recognized Briggs and Ivkin, both bound like him, but no sign of Kniazev. Wondering if the Russian ops was dead he focused on his surroundings, searching for something that could help him. But he saw nothing.

Suddenly the dark warehouse became brightly illuminated, and he forced his eyes shut, blinded. A voice boomed out of a loudspeaker, making Briggs and Ivkin jump and wake up abruptly.

_ Welcome, old friends!

_ That voice, Ivkin said, still fighting against his tiredness and eyes fluttering. Can't be...

_ Who is it? Sam asked him, vaguely recognizing the voice too.

_ Kirill Petrovich, Ivkin moaned in a daze.

_ Who? Sam repeated.

_ My teammate, Ivkin said, a tear rolling down his cheek. Kniazev. He betrayed me. Us.

Sam saw with dread that the Russian guy was right. On a platform jutting out of what looked like the fourth floor their enemies appeared, grinning wickedly and holding weapons aimed at them. And among them, like he had no worry in the world, Kniazev was standing at Brosselet's right, flanked by a woman Sam identified as Lebedeva. Kniazev raised his loudspeaker and said again:

_ Welcome, old friends! We're glad you're awake at last. Welcome to our party.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Briggs, still trying to process all that was happening, soon realized a few things. First he, Sam and Ivkin were bound like smoked sausages on the cold floor of the warehouse, looking up at their enemies. Second, Kniazev had betrayed them, making him wanting to yell in fury. And third, they were at the mercy of their enemies, not a situation he liked so much.

Above him, he saw some of the people retreating towards what looked like a staircase, leaving three guards who spread on the big platform, still aiming at them. And soon four people came at their level, and Briggs eyed them with fury and disgust. He saw Kniazev, that backstabbing traitor, Brosselet and his evil smile, Lebedeva who was staring hungrily at them, and a last guy he remembered being the NSA traitor, Stanley Richmond. He watched them approaching and caught Sam's stare. And this time, they both knew that only a miracle could save them. Nobody was backing them up, they were on their own.

Brosselet came towering above Sam and said with a triumphant voice:

_ At last you're here, Sam Fisher! Five years we've been waiting for this moment, biding our time and weaving the threads of the web that has finally caught you and your team. Such a sweet vengeance it is!

Sam smiled in a derisive expression, and Lebedeva roared:

_ None of this, ублюдок! _(bastard!)_

She kicked Sam repeatedly in the chest, and the Splinter Cell recoiled a little, coughing and spitting blood. Briggs, raging at being so helpless, struggled against his bonds but Richmond went above him, putting a knife against his throat and murmuring:

_ I would stay still like a good boy if I were you. Your turn will come soon enough.

Briggs, his vision turning red under the fury constricting his lungs, caught a movement on the platform, above Richmond's head, and first thought he had dreamed it. But suddenly, as Lebedeva stopped kicking Sam at last and grinned widely at seeing the Splinter Cell rolling back and forth on the floor out of pain, he distinguished a blurred figure hastily covering a guard's mouth and cutting his throat, four floors above them. Only one guard remained, focused on them and smiling at the show, but this one soon disappeared too. So Briggs, hope rising in him, concentrated back on his level as not to give his unknown ally away. Brosselet, still grinning, said:

_ There, there, Maria. You'll soon have all the time you want with Mr Fisher here. Don't spoil the moment. He needs to be fully aware of what you're going to do with him.

_ True, she said nastily as Briggs eyed his boss with worry.

_ And Kirill has asked to take care of you, Miroslav Grigorovich, the French guy added for Ivkin, still looking thunderstruck. He has been waiting for this for a very long time, after all.

_ But why? Ivkin asked with a broken voice. Why, Kiriusha? I trusted you.

_ And what have you ever done for me? Kniazev spat in resentment, a manic gleam in his eyes. You've risen inside Voron, leaving me behind. Licking Kossiak's boots, and now being Jdan's puppet. You're just scum, Miroslav. I hate you since a long time ago, but now the time for revenge has come.

Briggs saw Ivkin breaking down, seeing that the Russian guy wouldn't be of much help, then caught Sam's eyes. His boss, although looking in pain, had clear eyes, and Briggs saw that he had spotted their savior. He nodded surreptitiously, and Briggs made the tiniest of blinks. They weren't done for yet, he thought, not without a fight.

_ Now, Brosselet said, we have some questions for you, and some friends' arrest and death to make up for. So you'll be treated as our guests from now on until we have what we want from you, then...

Briggs saw a small thing bouncing towards them, and understood what it was in an instant. So he curved into a ball, shutting his eyes as tightly as he could and covering his ears with his arms. And half a second later, the flashbang went off. The blast hit him hard, but not as hard as it would have if he hadn't prepared himself. Then he heard gunshots, and someone fell next to him. Opening his eyes he saw in a blur all people on the floor except Brosselet who was running away, but a vague figure cut his path, and they started fighting. But Brosselet's opponent was much more stronger, it seemed, and the French guy fell after twenty seconds, looking knocked out.

So Briggs raised with difficulty to a sitting position, looked around him and saw that their savior had done the job well. Richmond was dead, a hole in his forehead, Lebedeva was moaning and clutching both her legs in a daze, and Kniazev was passed out cold, a huge swollen bruise on his right temple. Sam had obviously seen the flashbang because he was slowly recovering, but Ivkin was out of it. Then Briggs heard a halting step towards him and he turned, not believing his eyes and ears.

_ Mishka? he asked in bewilderment.

_ Can't wake up from a coma without saving your sorry skin, мой друг _(my friend)_. Shame on you.

Stunned, he watched Kestrel, a half-smile on his lips and his Beretta in his holster, tac suit on, limping towards them and checking on his targets. He saw him binding Lebedeva and bandaging her wounded legs with her own T-shirt, then he bound Kniazev too. At last he bent on his teammates, a faint smile on his lips, and said, taking out his Ka-Bar:

_ Now you'll have to get up, my friends. I'll be able to carry Ivkin, but not Sam or you, Briggs.

With one swipe he cut Briggs' bonds and the ops massaged his aching wrists and ankles, watching his best friend freeing Sam and Ivkin. Then he knelt next to his still lying boss and asked him, frowning in concern and bandaging the wound in his leg:

_ You've been shot, but it doesn't seem bothersome. What about the ribcage, Daddy?

_ I... don't know... sonny, Sam stammered, visibly aching much more than Briggs had thought.

_ Let me have a look.

Kestrel gently felt Sam's ribcage and grimaced, and Briggs saw pain in the Splinter Cell's eyes. At last Kestrel said:

_ Two broken ribs, and who knows how much cracked. Can you walk, Sam?

_ The car... isn't too far, their boss said with a wince. It should be all right.

_ Good, Kestrel nodded. Mine isn't too far either, we'll pick both of them to transport everybody.

He helped Sam on his feet, then held out his hand for Briggs and bent to pick up Ivkin on his shoulders. Briggs, still stunned, finally realized what it meant and said with astonishment:

_ But what are you doing here, mate? You've just saved us! And you woke up not twenty-four hours ago from your coma!

_ Long story, Kestrel said, staggering a little under Ivkin's weight. I'll tell you later, when we're safely back to the Paladin.

_ Grim... Sam started, an arm on Briggs who supported him.

_ I'm in contact with her, Kestrel said, leading them outside. You can't hear her or Charlie because of some interference inside the warehouse, but soon we'll hear her.

And sure enough, as soon as they were ten meters away from the building Briggs heard Grim's anguished voice in his ear:

_ Mishka? Can you hear me? Mishka?

_ I'm here, Grim, he said calmly, heading towards a nearby pickup. They're with me, and safe.

_ Thank goodness! she exhaled in relief. Sam? Are you there?

_ I'm here, my love, the Splinter Cell said with a grimace.

_ What's wrong, Sam? Are you hurt?

_ Broken ribs, my love. And I've been shot in the leg. Aside from that I'm okay.

_ Samuel Fisher, she growled, half-sobbing and half-laughing, you're so dead!

_ I know, my love, Sam said in a daze. Love you too.

_ Sam! Briggs said loudly, now half-carrying his boss. Stay with us!

Kestrel opened the back door of the pickup and hastily put Ivkin on the backseat, then he opened the front door and helped Briggs installing their boss who looked on the verge of fainting.

_ Sam! Briggs called out, anguish tightening his guts.

_ Don't worry, sonny, the Splinter Cell whispered feebly. I'm made of strong stuff. Won't abandon you just yet.

_ But you can rest, Sam, Kestrel said, buckling the seatbelt. You need it.

_ Right.

And Briggs saw Sam's head collapse on the headrest, indicating him that his boss had just blacked out. Kestrel said:

_ Check on him, мой друг. I'll go fetch our friends, and Grim will call the FBI for the dead ones. Where's your car?

_ It's the black SUV thirty meters from here, he said, pointing towards the end of the street. Do you see it?

_ Yes, Kestrel nodded, extracting his cane from the trunk and leaning heavily on it. Drive the car to the warehouse, please, мой друг.We'll pick up our enemies, then we'll drive everyone to the Paladin.

_ Mishka! Briggs called him out as Kestrel was already five meters away and turned round to face him.

_ Yes?

_ I don't know how you did it, but thanks. Thanks, mate.

Kestrel simply nodded then resumed his hobbling to the SUV, under the admiring stare of Briggs who wondered how his best friend had succeeded in saving the day after nearly a month of deep coma. Five minutes later, Briggs and Kestrel had loaded Kniazev, Lebedeva and Brosselet aboard the SUV as the first FBI van appeared in the street. Briggs saw Kestrel exchanging a few words with the leader, then he gestured at his best friend to follow him. So Briggs, checking on Sam a last time, drove the pickup to the airport, feeling elated to see the Paladin and its boarding ramp down.

He parked just at the foot of the ramp, next to Grim, Charlie and Elena who were waiting for them with two stretchers. Not remotely astonished, he didn't wonder why Elena was there, but he was only grateful when seeing her taking care of Sam, hastily pushing him inside with Grim's help. Then he helped Charlie putting Ivkin on the second stretcher and they followed more calmly. And when they arrived in the infirmary, Elena was already suturing Sam's wound, under the worried stare of Grim, and he heard the Russian doctor say:

_ He's all right, Anna. He will recover well, the wound is neat and easy to mend.

_ Thank you so much, Elena, Grim said with a constricted voice, her hand holding Sam's one.

_ Don't mention it, she said, examining Sam's chest. Yes, two broken ribs and one cracked. I'll put his right arm in a splint.

_ He'll love it, Briggs said with a small smile, making Grim chuckle weakly.

Then Charlie and he put Ivkin on the second bed as Kestrel walked in the corridor behind them, carrying a still unconscious Kniazev. Briggs asked him:

_ Where will you put him, mate?

_ In a cell, мой друг.

_ Wait, Kobin is in one. We'll need to make him go out to have enough space.

_ Fine. I have to tell him something.

Briggs shot a serious look at his best friend, but Kestrel didn't look mad. Only focused, and that reassured him. So he followed him to the detention block, Charlie behind them and stopping in the control room, and they soon arrived in front of the thick door. He opened it and went in first, and saw Kobin raising his head, looking at them sullenly. The arms dealer had a waxed face and bloodshot eyes, and watched apprehensively Kestrel coming towards the cell. But Kestrel said calmly, putting Kniazev on the bunk of the second cell and binding him onto it with handcuffs:

_ Relax, Kobin. I'm not here for you.

_ I don't care anymore, Kobin said dejectedly. Kill me if you want, Kestrel. I've lost everything.

_ No, you haven't, Kestrel countered him softly, exiting the cell and opening Kobin's one. I have something very important to show you, Andriy. Follow me.

A little puzzled but mostly downcast, Kobin followed Kestrel to the control room, Briggs bringing up the rear. And the ops saw with astonishment Charlie waiting for them, a large grin on his face. Kestrel asked him:

_ Done, Charlie?

_ Yes, Mishka, the tech nodded enthusiastically. She's on the line.

_ Sit down, Andriy, Kestrel said, pointing to a chair in front of a screen.

Kobin obeyed, clearly not caring about anything anymore, and Charlie switched on the screen. Suddenly Kobin gasped, and Briggs, flabbergasted, saw Lebedeva in it, smiling and crying. She said with a high-pitched voice:

_ Andriy! You're really safe, then?

_ Sophia? Kobin asked, clearly not believing his eyes. But... Sam told me...

_ Sam told you the truth, Kestrel explained calmly. Lebedeva really took Sophia's identity and had her kidnapped, Andriy. Voron found her two hours ago in Athens, and rescued her.

_ Are you... are you okay? Kobin asked his girlfriend.

_ Yes, my love, the woman stammered through huge sobs, holding out her hand to touch the screen. Some Russian agents saved me. I was so desperate!

_ We'll leave you, Kestrel said softly, more softly than Briggs would've thought possible. We'll talk about all this later.

Then he, Briggs and Charlie left the control room and headed towards the ramp. Briggs, still stunned by what was happening, followed his limping best friend to the SUV, where Brosselet and Lebedeva were still passed out cold on the backseat. When lying eyes on the Russian woman, he asked, nonplussed:

_ I don't understand. So Lebedeva took Sophia's identity?

_ Yes, мой друг, Kestrel nodded, taking out Brosselet and lifting him on his shoulders. But don't worry, I'll soon explain everything. We'll just wait for Grim and Sam to be ready, okay?

_ Okay, Briggs acknowledged, extracting Lebedeva from the car and carrying her to the detention block.

Soon she and the French guy were in the cells too, handcuffed to the bunks, Brosselet on the floor of Kniazev's one, and he led the way outside the detention block. In the control room Kobin, looking much relieved and better, was still talking to a calmer Sophia, and Briggs smiled faintly at seeing the arms dealer shooting a grateful look at Kestrel.

Then the two ops went back to the infirmary where Grim, Charlie and Elena were monitoring Sam and Ivkin. Briggs could see that the Russian was slowly waking up, but Sam was still in Dreamland. So they took seats and waited. After ten minutes Ivkin's eyes fluttered open just as Sam was starting to stir, and Briggs listened to the Russian words Kestrel exchanged with his old Voron colleague.

_ What happened? Ivkin asked weakly.

_ Mirko, Kestrel told him calmly, do you recognize me?

_ Mishka, Ivkin said, focusing on Kestrel. What... what are you doing here? What... ?

_ Go slowly, Mirko. You've been hit by a flashbang after being captured by Kirill.

_ Kiriusha... He betrayed me, Mishka. I saw him hitting me right after entering the warehouse. But why? I trusted him so much!

_ He is one of them, Kestrel said sadly, putting a hand on Ivkin's arm as his former colleague broke down again. Be strong, Mirko.

Briggs turned his gaze and saw that Sam was waking up too, and rejoiced at seeing Grim looking utterly relieved. Soon the Splinter Cell asked, still in a daze:

_ What happened? Where are we? Who's crying?

_ Sam, Grim said, bending over him and caressing his face, attracting his attention. We're aboard the Paladin, in the infirmary. Everybody's safe.

Sam stared at the people around him and seemed to realize that he was lying on a bed. He tried to rise but quickly stopped, emitting a muffled groan, and Elena told him calmly:

_ Lie down for a moment, Sam. You've got broken ribs, that's why you have a splint on.

_ Wonderful, he rumbled. I'll have to thank Lebedeva for that. But... Elena? It's you?

Briggs smiled before Sam's bewildered expression, and she said, eyes twinkling:

_ Yes, it's me. Mishka and I have a lot of things to tell you.

_ That's certain, Sam nodded, looking completely destabilized. Elena, can I get up?

_ Only if you go slowly, Sam. And you'll go sit down in the control room, okay?

_ Okay.

So Briggs and Charlie helped him sitting up, then rising to his feet. Sam wavered a little before regaining his balance under Briggs' strong grip and finally said:

_ I'm okay. Let's go.

Briggs, helping Sam, turned towards Kestrel who had helped Ivkin on his feet too, and soon the whole team slowly made their way to the control room. There Briggs saw that Kobin was still talking to his girlfriend, but when he noticed the cluster of people entering the room he told her:

_ I'll have to go, Sophia. See you in a few hours, then?

_ Yes, she nodded, tears on her cheeks. See you soon, my love.

_ Bye.

Kobin rose and Charlie went to cut the communication. Briggs, easing Sam on a comfortable armchair, could see that the arms dealer looked a lot better and reassured, and said:

_ Thanks. I don't know who I have to thank for this, but thanks. She's okay, and she'll take the first plane to Miami.

_ Was it... ? Sam asked, still flabbergasted.

_ Sophia, Kobin said with a small smile. She's been rescued by Voron.

_ What? But...

_ Now's the time for explanations, I think, Kestrel said, standing next to Ivkin who was also sitting on a chair.

He gently touched the console, calling a number, and soon they heard Jdan's voice filling the room:

_ Да?

_ Goga, Kestrel said calmly in English, the job is done. Everybody's all right.

_ I'm glad to hear it, Mishka, the Voron commander said. What about Kniazev and Lebedeva?

_ Alive and taken prisoner, along with Brosselet. Lebedeva is wounded in the legs, but nothing to worry about.

_ Good. And how's Mirko?

_ I'm here, Ivkin said weakly, still looking very put out.

_ Don't worry, Mirko, Jdan said, concern in his voice. Fiodor Igorovich and Lev Vladimirovich are coming to debrief and fetch you, you'll soon be with us in Moscow.

_ Хорошо _(good)_ , Ivkin murmured.

_ When will they arrive? Kestrel asked.

_ In about two hours.

_ Okay, Goga. We'll keep you posted.

_ I'm waiting for your call, Mishka.

Kestrel hung up, then faced all the people and started calmly, sitting down with a sigh:

_ Ieshevskiy and Remizov are coming. They were supposed to help me rescue you, but I managed alone, thank heavens! They'll interrogate the prisoners with you.

_ Sonny, Sam said seriously, looking more alert and sitting forward on his chair in spite of his splint and his wounded leg, we're all dying to hear what happened.

_ Okay, Kestrel said with a small smile. So here's the story.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Kestrel, his leg aching like mad, started to massage it while gathering his bearings. He would have to recount a lot of things, so he had to be self-consistent and logical in spite of his growing exhaustion. The rescue operation had been very stressful and tiresome for him, and he only wanted to lie down on his bed in his old cabin, but that would have to wait. So he took a deep breath and started:

_ About four hours after you left, Goga phoned me. Jdan, he explained to a puzzled Charlie. It's his short name.

_ You never called Kossiak by a short name, did you? the tech asked in surprise. Why Goga?

_ Igor, like his brother Ivan, never accepted to be called by any short name, he told him sadly. Some bad memories from their childhood, if I remember correctly. That's why, Charlie. But that never stopped them from calling me Mishka or Mirko for Miroslav here, or Goga for Georguiy Jdan. Being called by a short name is a tradition in Russia.

He saw Ivkin nod sadly too, still looking utterly depressed, and went on:

_ So, Jdan phoned me. Sam told him I had awoken, so he wanted to talk to me a little. And the conversation drifted onto your op. He told me about Karavayev, and that didn't surprise me. But he also told me that Kniazev, who was supposed to keep in touch for the team, hadn't contacted him, and that worried him. But he thought it was a problem of phones, not of a betrayal.

Next to him Ivkin dissolved into tears, and he bent forward to put a hand on his old colleague's arm, sadness squeezing his heart. Around him, he saw compassionate and angry looks, but the past was in the past. Ivkin would have to move on, even if it was terribly difficult for the moment. Sam, although looking in pain again, nodded, silently telling him to go on. So he obliged:

_ Jdan was puzzled, but nothing more. However, I wasn't feeling well with that. When we hung up, I got up and went to dig into our copy of Voron's database, earning Lena's wrath in the process, he added with a smile.

Elena chuckled, and the team smiled a little, making him feel better.

_ And I quickly spotted some oddities about Kniazev. Tiny ones, but enough to raise suspicions. So I convinced Lena to fly to Miami with me...

_ I wouldn't have it otherwise, she said with a faint smile. We left Aliosha with Molly and Ben's team.

_ … and when we arrived, I called Grim. She was very surprised to hear from me, and even more to learn that I was in Miami.

_ That's an understatement, Grim said calmly. Charlie and I were completely bewildered. But your arrival was like an angel from heaven. We couldn't make contact with you or Briggs anymore, Sam, she told the Splinter Cell. We were very worried and thought that you'd fallen into a trap.

_ And so had we, Briggs said dejectedly but listening intently.

_ I tried to warn you, Sam added with a wince. That failed?

_ Yes, she acknowledged. Never heard you or Briggs. Ivkin and Kniazev weren't responding either, so when Mishka and Elena arrived, we quickly exchanged our intel.

_ And we decided to call Jdan while I would go to the warehouse, Kestrel said seriously. By mixing our info we thought that the situation was very strange at the very least, so it wouldn't hurt to have me around to watch over things. Jdan called another team that was in Latin America, Ieshevskiy and Remizov, to give us a hand. But when I came to the warehouse, I saw that you three had been captured and were bound on the floor, passed out cold. And I couldn't talk to Grim or Charlie anymore. I backtracked a few meters, so that's how we discovered about the interference in the warehouse. Some clever way of cutting you from the Paladin, he told the sullen ops. So Grim, Charlie, Jdan and I decided to act. I would enter and neutralize our enemies one at a time and rescue you before it was too late. And I believe you know the rest.

He stopped at last, sighing deeply, still massaging his thigh and eyelids heavy, and Sam spotted it soon because he said:

_ I think we all feel tired and dizzy after all we've been through, so I suggest we fly back to Baltimore and sleep in the meantime.

_ Not me, Kobin said. Sophia arrives here in Miami in a few hours.

_ Ah yes, Sam said, shooting a surprised look at the arms dealer. So what about Sophia, then?

_ I almost forgot about that, Kestrel said, hardly stifling a yawn. When you told Jdan about Lebedeva being Kobin's girlfriend, Sam, he couldn't believe it. After all, Mirko here had been keeping an eye on Kobin, and he would've known if Sophia was Lebedeva. So he made an inquiry with Cristina Nikonova and called his nearest team to go to Greece. Soon Cristina discovered what you saw, but she dug a little deeper and saw that Lebedeva had only borrowed a real person's identity to fly to the US. It took them a little work to find out what had happened to Sophia, and they found her in an out-of-the-way farm in the outskirts of Athens.

_ So I have to thank you and Voron, Fisher, Kobin sighed. What a pain in the ass.

_ Don't bother, Kobin, Sam said, an ironical smile on his face. You already owe us too much.

_ True. So, what do I do now? Can I go back to Greece with Sophia?

_ No, Kestrel shook his head, his vision slowly blurring. I'm afraid that Voron blew up your cover there, Andriy. Now you're wanted by the Greek police for arms dealing and trafficking. So Europe is out of bounds for you, unless you want a ten years' sentence to jail.

_ Wonderful, Kobin grumbled. So where do I go now?

Kestrel saw Sam shooting him a questioning look, and he nodded. Time to move on.

_ You can stay in Miami, Kobin, Sam offered gently. But you don't leave Florida, agreed? The rest of the country is out of bounds, do you hear me?

_ Lucky me we didn't end in Alaska, then, Kobin said, half-amused, half-annoyed. Okay, Fisher, I'll stay in Miami. There are worse places to settle down.

_ Indeed, Sam said, exchanging a smile with all his team. Good luck, Andriy. Keep in touch.

_ Not likely, Fisher, Kobin said, getting up. But thanks, and farewell.

_ Bye, Charlie told him with a grin.

Kestrel simply nodded to the arms dealer who waved to the team then exited the plane. Then the ops rose with difficulty, grabbing his cane and leaning heavily on it, and said:

_ And now, I'll have a nap. Grim, can you tell Jdan to call his team so we can regroup in Baltimore?

_ Sure, Mishka, she told him with a smile.

Elena and Briggs escorted him to his old cabin under the team's grateful stare, and his girlfriend hastily made the bed for him before he lay down with a small groan. As his eyes were closing fast he kissed Elena a last time and heard Briggs say:

_ Thank you for having saved our lives again, mate. Just don't fall into another coma out of exhaustion.

He chuckled weakly before falling asleep instantly.

* * *

When Elena shook his shoulder, he thought that he had slept for a few minutes, but she told him with a kind voice:

_ We've landed in Baltimore, my love. Time to wake up.

_ Already there? he said, yawning widely. I'll need a good shower to shake out the sleep, my love. I'm still exhausted.

_ That I can easily believe, she said, sitting down on the bed next to him and caressing his face. You can push your limits pretty far, Mishka, but you're still a man. And on top of that, you're just out of a coma.

_ Do you resent me, Lena? he asked her seriously, locking eyes with her.

_ No, she shook her head, love and worry swirling in her grey eyes. I know you did well. And you saved your friends again. But you don't know where to stop, my love. For them you would risk everything, like you did too many times before, and again a few hours ago. You haven't fooled me, you know? she added with a faint smile. When you got up, you were barely able to stand, and it took you all your willpower to stay up and go rescue your friends.

_ You truly know me well, любимая _(my love)_ , he smiled, a little impressed.

_ And I know you have some work to do again, she sighed. But after that, I want you to promise me you'll rest at home with me, and obey your doctor's orders.

He gently took her hand, his eyes riveted into hers, and vowed solemnly:

_ I swear to you that after we're done with these three annoying persons I'll go back home with you and obey your orders, Lena.

_ Good, she nodded with a radiant smile. Now get up, Mishka. Your team is waiting for you.

_ How's Sam? he asked, taking his time to get to his feet. And Ivkin?

_ Sam's okay, she said calmly. I gave him painkillers, and he slept like you, so he's better now. Ivkin is physically okay, but...

_ He's broken from the inside, Kestrel guessed sadly. It'll take him time to overcome the betrayal.

_ Yes, she acknowledged, worry in her eyes. Just like you years ago.

He turned towards her, love and sadness mixing painfully in his chest, and hugged her tightly. The dark times are well behind you, мой друг _(my friend_ ), he told himself firmly. Now focus on the future, and your love for your family. He kissed the woman he loved with all his heart, and she responded passionately. When they finally pulled apart, grinning in happiness, he said:

_ I can't wait to go back home with you, my love.

_ Me too. But first...

_ Yes, he said, taking his cane and exiting his cabin. The sleep and the shower will wait a little longer. I have some talking to do with my team.

Together they headed for the control room, and Kestrel saw the whole team welcoming them with a bright smile, except Ivkin who was nowhere to be seen. He asked:

_ Where's Ivkin?

_ Still sleeping, Grim told him. I gave him a sleeping pill, like he asked.

_ I see, he said, frowning. So, what now?

_ We'll have a good dinner made by Elena, Sam told him with a wide grin. Ieshevskiy and Remizov should arrive in two hours, so that gives us time. And when they're here, we start the interrogation.

Kestrel nodded, and Briggs asked:

_ What about Fujiwara?

_ The NSA will bring him here, Sam answered seriously. He should be here in an hour.

_ Are we sure nobody will interfere? Kestrel asked. Somebody from the airport, or...

_ No, sonny, Sam shook his head. The NSA, thankfully, will rise a security perimeter around the hangar of the Paladin "for health reasons". Officially, we must be kept in isolated quarters as to be sure we're not bringing a very contagious virus in Baltimore.

Kestrel grinned, and Grim winked at him. He guessed that she was the one who had thought about such a good cover-up story, it would give them the privacy they needed. He told Elena:

_ My love, when we start...

_ Don't worry, Mishka, she cut him softly, I have no intention to linger here while you and your team interrogate your prisoners.

_ Neither have I, Charlie said. I'll go home. Andrea is waiting impatiently for me.

_ So, dinner is ready, Sam said, rising to his good foot and leaning on a crutch.

Kestrel followed him to the dining cabin, and Elena served them a delicious beef solianka. Starving, he ate four large plates, then felt better at last. A strong coffee helped him fighting his desire to go have a nap again, and the team gathered once more in the control room. Sam addressed the team with a serious tone:

_ So, we'll proceed with one at a time. First, Brosselet, then Lebedeva, Kniazev and, last but not least, Fujiwara. It'll give us time to unsettle our NSA friend. We'll do it in the training room, to give us the space we need.

_ Then it means that Ivkin must be awake, Kestrel said. We can't start while he's sleeping.

_ I'll check on him, Elena offered. Maybe he's already awake.

_ Thank you, my love.

Elena left, and Grim said calmly:

_ During the interrogations, I'll stay with him here.

_ That's nice, my love, Sam told her with a grateful smile. And it's better for you too.

_ Indeed. I don't want to watch your manhandling.

_ Better not, Sam agreed.

_ But I'll have a camera recording the interrogation, Grim added. The NSA, the CIA and Voron all want some proofs of our investigations.

_ No prob, Sam nodded. Charlie?

_ It's ready, Sam, the tech smiled. All you have to do when you start is press the record button.

_ Good.

Grim's smartphone rang, and she picked up the call. She only stayed a few seconds on the line, agreeing to somebody, before hanging up and telling the team:

_ Ieshevskiy and Remizov have arrived. They're waiting at the foot of the boarding ramp.

_ I'll go fetch them, Briggs offered, getting to his feet.

_ Thanks, sonny, Sam nodded. Meet us back here.

Briggs hastily rose and left, and Kestrel felt Sam's stare on him. But his head was starting to spin and the exhaustion was so high he doubted he would be able to rise and ask a single question to their guests. In a daze, his stomach comfortably full and the armchair seemingly sinking under him, he vaguely heard Sam's voice:

_ Mishka, everything all right?

_ Sorry, he muttered, fighting the slumber that was slowly overpowering him. So tired.

He dimly noticed the blurred figures of Elena and Ivkin coming into the control room, closely followed by Briggs, Ieshevskiy and Remizov, and heard Sam's words of welcome before feeling a gentle hand resting on his shoulder and Elena's voice right in front of him:

_ My love, what's happening? Are you okay?

_ Lena, he whispered weakly, just wanting to sleep for a moment. I'm... so tired...

_ Then come, she ordered firmly, pulling his hand. You need rest, you won't be of much use to your team in this state. And for once, think about your health first, любимый _(darling)_.

_ You know what? I think... you're right, my love.

But he couldn't muster enough strength to rise, in spite of all his efforts, and his eyes closed against his will. However, some strong arms wrapped him and brought him to his feet, and he heard Remizov's gruff voice saying gently:

_ Здравствуйте, Мишка _(Hello, Mishka)_. You've done too much already. Let us help you for once.

_ Liova, Kestrel said, his head swimming and his vision black. Sorry... don't feel well...

_ Тихо! _(Hush!)_ another voice he identified as Ivkin's one rose to his right, speaking Russian. It is our turn to give you a hand, old friend. Let us do you this honor. I still have a debt to pay.

_ No..., he mumbled as he felt himself dragged along towards the infirmary, hearing Elena's light footsteps in front of them. Nothing to pay... Fedia... It was... my honor...

_ In the meantime, Ieshevskiy replied calmly, for once Russia and the USA agree on one thing, and it's about you, Mishka. Now you rest, and let your agency and your former one take over from now on. Nothing to worry about, we'll do the job well. You can trust us, and your team, I suppose.

_ Yes, Kestrel sighed as he felt himself being laid onto the infirmary's bunk. Thanks, Fedia... Liova...

_ Just sleep, Remizov said, lulling him into a blissful oblivion with the help of Elena's soft hand on his face.

When he emerged from a deep and very restful sleep, Kestrel felt good but a little bit disoriented. He expected to wake up in the bed of his house, and instead he was in the infirmary of the Paladin. But a soft voice rose next to him, asking in Russian:

_ How are you, Mishka?

He turned his head and saw Ivkin looking straight at him, and suddenly the recent memories rushed forward. I need holidays, he dimly thought as he sat up on his bed and answered:

_ Fine, thanks, Mirko. I feel much better now. What about you?

_ I feel better too, the Russian admitted with a small smile. I watched over you. Your boss wouldn't let your girlfriend staying around, and he was right. The sounds might have disturbed her, but thankfully you slept right through them.

_ Haven't heard a thing, Kestrel nodded, noticing a bottle of water next to him and hastily drinking large mouthfuls out of it, vaguely hearing muffled screams from deeper in the plane. How long was I out?

_ Five hours.

He studied his old comrade very carefully, and soon was reassured. Ivkin looked clearly affected by what had happened, but he was tough, and some of his old determination was back in his eyes. As if reading his mind, the Voron agent said with a faint smile:

_ I'll live on, Mishka. It's just a betrayal of a very old friend. Nothing like you experienced yourself.

_ Let's not talk about it, Kestrel said calmly, putting his boots on. It's in the past, Mirko.

_ But you don't know how we all feel about it.

The sad tone of Ivkin made him raise his head and lock eyes with him. He waited, trying to control his emotion, as the Russian finally confessed:

_ After Avilov's death, Igor Kossiak ordered a complete investigation on what had happened to you and your counterpart from Third Echelon, agent Archer. He displayed all the results in an assembly with all Voron agents, can you imagine?

No, Kestrel couldn't. Never in ten years had he seen all Voron agents gathered in one place, it was much too risky and dangerous. But Ivkin went on, making his mind swirling with sorrow and bitterness:

_ We all saw clearly that what happened to you was a true and complete betrayal, such a horrible and unfair treatment that I wondered what I would've done if it had happened to me. But the worst of it was the guilt, Mishka. We all trusted Avilov and Timochenko at that time, and when we realized that what we had believed was a lie, and you had been telling the truth for all these years...

Ivkin stopped, and Kestrel's guts clenched in pain. He took deep breaths to force down the bad and aching memories, and after a whole minute managed to say with a muffled voice:

_ It's in the past, Mirko.

_ But we all feel so bad about it, Ivkin said, his voice choked with sobs. We all pretend to be so strong, Russia's elite force, the proud Voron spies! But what are we in reality? Ignorant sheep stupidly following what we are told, even if the warning signs are blatantly flashing in our eyes. Igor was tormenting himself much with it, Mishka, like all of us who knew and worked with you. We aren't so much anymore, many have died along the way. But I needed to tell you all this, Mishka. In the name of all that bitterly regret what happened, and mine. You know you'll never get an official amend from Voron, but know that all the old agents agree with what I'm going to ask you: please forgive us.

Kestrel rose and embraced Ivkin who dissolved into tears, shutting out the cry of anguish that was swelling in his chest. He had waited for so many years for somebody to say those things! And now that it was done, his very last hard knot of pain and resentment started to untie in his heart, making him feel free and better. Now he could truly move on, and say sincerely:

_ Thank you so much, Mirko! You can't know what it feels to hear it from you. But now I can say for the last time: it's in the past. No need to dwell on all of this anymore. You and all Voron agents are forgiven. I take it that all the ones responsible are dead now, then?

_ Nearly, Ivkin said, pulling away and firmly wiping his eyes. Only Karavayev never admitted the wrong done to you, he's the last one from that cursed period, and Goga will never forgive him for that. And on top of that, he is a traitor.

_ I see. Then he'll be dead when you, Liova and Fedia go back to Moscow.

_ I suppose so. Like Lebedeva and... Kiriusha.

Kestrel put a hand on his old colleague's arm, but this time Ivkin riveted his eyes into his and said calmly:

_ I won't be able to execute him myself, but I know he'll have a painful traitor's death.

_ Only fair, Kestrel acknowledged. Now, do you feel like we should go to the interrogation room and see how things are?

_ Yes, the Russian said, a harsh gleam in his eyes. I don't want to let Liova and Fedia have all the fun.

_ Then let's go, he said, grabbing his cane lying against the desk and leaning on it, setting his mind. I need to have a few words with Fujiwara, that charming lad who had me almost killed a month ago. I have to thank him for my coma, after all.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** **Hi everyone! We're slowly reaching the end of this story! I think I'll have only one or two chapters left, so much time has passed! But concerning this particular chapter, a little warning: I don't rate it M, but there is some mention of violence in it, so brace yourself! Enjoy and review, please!**

Chapter 21

Sam was feeling quite fine, aside from his aching ribs and a dull pain throbbing in his leg. But he was comfortably seated in an armchair in the training room, a bottle of water next to him, and trying to relax as the interrogation of Lebedeva was finally over. The Russian renegade was tough, but even she had cracked under the strain from her ex-colleagues. And Sam had to admit that the Russian pair, Ieshevskiy and Remizov, were perfectly matched in a rough way. They knew how to work together and had much skills in manhandling people.

As Briggs and Remizov were carrying a nearly unconscious Lebedeva between them to her cell, leaving a small stream of blood in their wake, the door opened and Kestrel and Ivkin entered the room. The newcomers shot a uncompassionate look on the woman, then focused on Sam. The Splinter Cell, rejoicing at seeing his ops obviously better and the Russian back on his feet, welcomed them:

_ Good to see you, boys! Want to join the party?

_ I do hope you left us some things to deal with, Kestrel said calmly, casually hobbling towards him with his cane, Ivkin at his side.

_ Only Fujiwara left, Ieshevskiy said with a nasty smile. The juiciest piece for you two.

_ Indeed, Kestrel nodded as he and Ivkin stopped next to Sam and the Russian agent. Had fun with the others?

_ We had to organize, Ieshevskiy explained, still smiling evilly, since we all wanted our share. So Briggs and I got Brosselet, Briggs and Liova got Kniazev, and Liova and I took care of Lebedeva. It was quite fun, indeed. So I think we can leave you the NSA scumbag.

_ Good, Ivkin said seriously. What have you learned?

_ A lot, Sam said, his mind swirling with all the intel. Too much, to tell you the truth. The work is huge, luckily we'll share it between the USA and Russia. But we'll talk about it later.

_ Right, Ivkin agreed. So? he asked Kestrel. How will we play this? Like in Helsinki?

_ No, Kestrel shook his head. Too messy. Don't forget that this time _we_ are the ones who'll clean the room after we're done.

_ You're right.

_ How about like in San Francisco? Kestrel said, shooting an uneasy glance towards Sam, who wondered what had happened there, his stomach tightening a little.

_ Okay for me, Ivkin agreed immediately, an evil gleam in his eyes.

_ Can I ask... ? Sam started uneasily.

_ No, Sam, Kestrel cut him gently. Better not. At least not now.

Ieshevskiy, Ivkin and he suddenly looked ill-at-ease, making the Splinter Cell realize the two men were referring to a mission against American interests. Later is better, he agreed to himself, and not in front of three Voron agents. The door opened on Remizov and Briggs, dragging a terrified Fujiwara between them, and Sam couldn't help a wicked smile. Now the tables had turned, it was a huge satisfaction to see the man who had organized all this mess in the weak position. He said, leaning back on his chair and starting the recording:

_ Good afternoon, Teppei. I assume your former employer explained to you why you are here?

_ Fisher, Fujiwara stammered, clearly very intimidated by all the tough-looking men around him and staring at him. I... I don't...

_ Yeah, yeah, Sam said evilly, playing his role even if the little bastard in front of him made him want to throw up. You're lucky, Teppei. I have a team here who's eager to ask you questions, and I'm in no condition to take care of you, although I would've loved it. So agents Ivkin and Loskov will tend to you. They'll do a wonderful job with you. And the best? You're now officially dead for the USA. Nobody will make inquiries about what you become, or if you leave this plane alive. And nobody cares, either.

Fujiwara, while being forced to sit on the steel chair and bound to it with handcuffs, whimpered at seeing the pool of blood around him. But he moaned even more when realizing that Kestrel would be the one handling him with the help of a ruthless-looking Russian guy. And Kestrel said with a cold voice:

_ Thanks, Sam. After all, I have a score to settle with Mr Fujiwara here. You see, Mirko, he said while addressing his grinning counterpart and locking eyes with his shaking prey, this lad here ordered Nataliya Viktorovna to shoot me in Baltimore airport. I almost died, and have earned a month worth of deep coma. How do you think I should reward him for such a nice treatment?

_ Oh, Mishka, Ivkin feigned to think. If I were you, I would take care of him like the Mafiya godfather of Irkutsk, do you remember? That was quite fun.

_ You're sure, Mirko? Kestrel seemed to hesitate. That was fun but quite long. Skinning a man alive is no peaceful work. But I have to admit the idea is appealing.

_ No! Fujiwara cried, eyes wide open in terror. Please! I'll tell you anything!

Sam hid his grin. Fujiwara didn't seem to be a hardened field agent. He would be easy to break. And he understood Kestrel's strategy. The pair wanted to break him without having to torture the guy, and maybe it would work. And around him, he could see that Briggs, Ieshevskiy and Remizov were enjoying the show too. Ivkin played along, looking disappointed and ignoring their trembling prey:

_ Maybe you're right, Mishka. But at least let me try this technique from China. You know which one? They know how to cut toes and avoid a bleeding to the death.

_ Really? I didn't know that. Well, Mirko, you can try that. Wait! I know a good one too. I used it on a slimy piece of shit in Ukraine. You pull the eyes out of their socket but you keep them attached to the optic nerves. _That_ is quite a challenge, and fun!

_ Brilliant! Let's try both!

Sam saw with satisfaction that Fujiwara, on the verge of fainting, had wetted himself in fright. He barely had time to moan a pitiful 'No!' before Ivkin and Kestrel took his shoes and socks and wrenched them away. Then Ivkin went to have a look on the toolbox lying a meter away from the chair and grabbed some huge pincers. He asked Kestrel:

_ How about we start with these?

_ Yes, Kestrel nodded with a masked face. But take the saw too. Maybe we'll have difficulty with the bones. And grab a flat screwdriver. For his eyes.

_ No! Fujiwara screamed in utter panic, straining against his bonds. No! I'll tell you everything! Everything!

And Sam, sitting on his chair, listened while the NSA traitor, between sobs and panic attacks, told them everything. How he had been recruited by Brosselet under Coudray's orders, how he had betrayed his country and organized Fedorova's attack and Kossiak's murder, how he had been working hard to resurrect the dying Meggido organization. After about half an hour of lengthy and pitiful explanations, Fujiwara finally stopped, breathing hard and eyeing all the men in the room with apprehension. At last Sam asked calmly:

_ Is that all?

_ Yes, yes, I swear! Fujiwara sobbed.

The Splinter Cell shot a look at Kestrel and Ivkin. Both men winked at him, but they kept their masked face on. And Sam knew that for the traitor, things were only beginning. He had to pay for what he had done. So, without remorse, he stood up, stopped the recording and said:

_ Thank you, Fujiwara. I do hope you've eased your conscience. Now, I can tell you the fate awaiting you.

The NSA traitor shot him a terrorized look as he waited for a few seconds, then went on:

_ What I told you earlier is perfectly true. You're dead for the USA. Now I'll let agents Loskov and Ivkin deal with you as they see fit, but they have strict orders not to kill you. And don't worry, I can assure you they're quite able to make you suffer without killing you. And when they're done, you'll be escorted to Moscow, along with your little friends Kniazev and Lebedeva, and be handed to Voron. You see, he added with a smile in front of Fujiwara's horrified expression, Voron asked me to bring them the culprit for Igor Kossiak's death. And I really don't want to know what our Russian friends will do to you. But one thing I know for sure: they are quite angry at you.

Sam saw that the Russians, looking surprised but genuinely pleased, shot him a grateful look. And he said as he leaned on his crutch, Briggs leading the way to the door:

_ Have fun, boys!

_ We will, Kestrel said with a wicked smile.

And Remizov, the last one to exit the training room, closed the door on Fujiwara's first cries of pain. Sam followed Briggs to the control room and went to sit next to Grim who was working on some intel, headphones on as not to be disturbed. She shot him an interrogative look and he shook his head, mouthing the words: 'Not over yet.' She nodded and turned back to her screen, and he invited Ieshevskiy and Remizov to take seats around the SMI. He asked Briggs:

_ Do you have the recording?

_ Yes, the ops said, showing a USB key and inserting it in the console.

_ Good. Make three copies, then send them to the NSA, the CIA and Voron. Our job is over.

Briggs nodded and set to work. Sam turned towards the Russian agents, and after a few seconds Remizov said calmly:

_ Thank you, Sam Fisher. You truly are a man of honor.

_ I had a mission, Sam said simply. It's as simple as that, Lev Vladimirovich. And I like to hold my promises. Fourth Echelon is no more, now's your turn to do the work. I do hope the NSA and CIA won't bother you with it, but I think you and they have enough to do rather than tear each other apart.

_ I agree, Ieshevskiy nodded with respect. So we're flying to Moscow?

_ As soon as Mishka and Ivkin are done with Fujiwara.

_ So it's true, then? Remizov insisted. We bring Maria Antonova, Kirill Petrovich and Fujiwara with us to Moscow? And Voron will deal with them?

_ Yes, Sam said with a small smile, sighing inwardly now the mission was almost over. That reminds me...

He rose and made a call with the SMI. Soon the voice of Leonard rose through the loudspeakers:

_ Fisher? Are you done?

_ Nearly, Leonard. But you can come fetch Brosselet.

_ Good. Thanks for the recording. From what I already saw we have some work. Good job.

_ That's certain.

_ I almost regret your unit has been dissolved, Leonard said half-heartedly. We could've shared the work.

_ Too late, Leonard, Sam said with an amused smile. Now I'll enjoy a well-earned retirement.

_ Lucky you, the NSA director sighed. My men are coming, they'll be here in two minutes, and we'll give the Paladin an official clearance to take off.

_ Right. Good luck, Leonard.

_ Fisher?

_ Yeah?

Leonard's voice rose after two seconds, saying with grudging respect:

_ You're leaving a gaping hole in the intel gathering. We'll all miss Fourth Echelon. And you yourself have served our country well. Thanks for everything.

_ That's nice, Leonard, Sam said, deeply moved but trying to hide it. Take care.

_ You too.

The line went dead, and Sam noticed, while forcing down some tears of emotion threatening to come out, that Briggs and the Russian agents avoided his gaze. Now's the real end, Fisher, he thought calmly. He said aloud after clearing his throat and sitting back down:

_ Briggs, Lev Vladimirovich, can I ask you to take Brosselet out of his cell and bring him to the cargo hold?

_ Sure, Sam, Briggs said immediately, jumping to his feet.

_ Да _(Yes)_ , the Russian nodded, imitating his American counterpart.

As they both left, Sam asked Ieshevskiy:

_ Can Voron do us a last favor?

_ After all you've done for us, the agent said, I think Voron can do something for you, Sam Fisher. Ask away, then.

_ Would it be okay if I ask Voron to leave Mishka and his new family in peace? Will they be protected from any Russian retaliation?

_ They'll have nothing to fear from Voron, Ieshevskiy assured him immediately, just like all of Fourth Echelon members and their family. But I think you're talking about the Mafiya? The ex-boyfriend of Mishka's wife?

_ Yes, Sam admitted.

_ Then be assured we'll always protect them from the Mafiya. We've already cleared the ranks of Kovalevskiy's friends, and we'll continue to do so.

_ Thank you, Sam said with a grateful smile. That's all I ask Voron as repayment for its debt.

_ You have our word, Ieshevskiy vowed solemnly. We all have a debt towards Mishka, after all he's been through.

_ True enough, Remizov said as he and Briggs came back into the room, looking satisfied.

_ Brosselet didn't look happy about going with our NSA friends, Briggs said, answering Sam's unspoken question. But he'll soon disappear from the official radar.

_ Good. And now, I have to call McMurdoch.

_ The President of your country? Remizov asked in surprise.

_ Yes, Sam smiled while rising to his feet. He also has a debt to pay.

_ What are you going to ask him? Briggs wondered aloud, frowning. He can't pay us, can he?

_ Sure, he can, Sam countered him softly. But I want another payment, if you agree. Grim and Charlie are okay.

_ What is it?

The Splinter Cell told him, and Briggs agreed enthusiastically. Then everybody in the room got up for a call with the US President, and Sam obtained what he wanted without the blink of an eye. McMurdoch even congratulated them for the good work, and started, looking a little embarrassed:

_ Maybe I've been a little quick at dissolving your unit, Mr Fisher. What would you think of...

_ No, Mr President, Sam cut him with amusement and a hint of annoyance. Fourth Echelon belongs to the past, and like you told us, the USA have other elite groups to do the work. We are all retired.

_ Okay, McMurdoch said, looking disappointed. Thanks again, Mr Fisher.

_ Farewell, Mr President.

Sam hung up, and Briggs asked him in amazement:

_ You've turned down an offer from the President of the United States of America to resurrect Fourth Echelon, Sam?

_ Yes, sonny, Sam grinned.

_ But...

_ Would've you come back, Briggs? Really?

_ No, the ops said after a few seconds thinking. I guess not. Too much has happened.

_ Exactly, Sam nodded, grabbing Grim's hand and kissing it, ignoring the Russians blushing in unison. The past is in the past. Now another future is waiting for us all.

_ You're right, Briggs acknowledged, smiling.

Sam kissed Grim who was shooting him an admiring look, then turned towards the corridor as Kestrel and Ivkin entered the control room, carrying an unconscious Fujiwara between them.

_ So, boys?

_ He's a wimp, Kestrel said as Briggs took his place to bring the traitor to the detention block. I wouldn't want him to brush my shoes. We barely touched him when he started to squeak like a stuck pig.

_ You can be quite intimidating, sonny, Sam said with a smile. Sit down, then.

_ So, Mishka? Remizov asked after Kestrel sat heavily on a chair next to him. Learned anything more?

_ Aside from his cowardice? No.

_ Good, Sam said with satisfaction. Then it means he had truly spilled the beans. Now we can go to Moscow.

_ Just there and back again, Sam, right? Kestrel asked him, looking exhausted again.

_ Yes, sonny. After that, I'll call Vic. We need a few days off before resuming our work.

Kestrel nodded as Briggs and Ivkin entered the room. Briggs announced:

_ Our three guests are comfortably settled and handcuffed. We can take off.

_ Tell the pilots to oblige, then, sonny, Sam told him.

As Briggs spoke through the intercom, Sam gently shook Grim's arm. She removed her headphones and asked:

_ Okay, now?

_ It's over, yeah, he acknowledged, wanting to kiss her but restraining himself.

_ Good. In this case we can have lunch.

_ You do know it's the middle of the night, my love?

_ Yes, she smiled, but I think that after all this work, we have all deserved some nice food.

_ I couldn't agree more, Ieshevskiy said, looking hungry.

Remizov shot him a dirty look but Ivkin and Kestrel burst out laughing, probably knowing all about the Russian's appetite. So Grim stood and said:

_ I'll have some hamburgers and fries ready, if it's okay?

_ It is, Remizov said after a sigh. Thanks, Ms Grimsdottir.

She grinned and left the room. Kestrel rose and said:

_ I'll phone Elena. She won't be happy.

_ I already told her about our short trip to Russia, Sam told him. Don't worry, sonny, we'll be back very soon.

_ Okay, thanks, Kestrel said, looking grateful.

_ While you're at it, you can tell her some good news.

_ What good news?

Sam waited three seconds, staring at Kestrel's puzzled expression and happy to know what his reaction would be, then said as the pilot warned everybody to sit down and buckle their seat belts:

_ I asked the President for a payment. And he granted my wish.

_ You asked for money?

_ No, Sam grinned, seeing Kestrel's doubtful face. I asked for a much more important thing. Two things, in fact. And the team and me all wanted it.

_ Tell me, then.

_ Mishka, Sam said solemnly, trying to hide his emotion, when we come back from Russia a NSA member will be waiting for us. He will give you some papers.

_ What papers? Kestrel asked, bewildered. Kill the suspense, Sam, please!

_ He will give you two ID cards, two passports and the official papers stating that Elena and Aliosha are now American, and that Aliosha's name is now Alexei Mikhailovich Loskov. It is completely official, sonny, courtesy of Bart McMurdoch.

Kestrel looked thunderstruck and first didn't react. His open mouth and wide eyes indicated his astonishment well enough. Then he went straight to the Splinter Cell who got up with some difficulty, and the two men embraced each other. Sam wasn't surprised to hear only a faint 'Thank you, Daddy', but his ops' embrace was clear enough. He was deeply moved and happy.

The three Voron agents and Briggs started to applaud, wide grins on their faces, and Grim joined them, back from the kitchen. As Kestrel pulled away, discreetly wiping his eyes, she announced calmly but with a beam to Sam:

_ The meal is ready!


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** **Well, this is it! The very last chapter of this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! And please write a review!**

Chapter 22

After the fabulous hamburgers made by Grim, Kestrel felt really sleepy again. As the other people talked about their prisoners' confessions, his mind wandered elsewhere. Now that their work was done, he didn't care if Brosselet was Meggido's leader, who did what and other meaningless things. All he wanted was lying down for a while and go back home soon. So he excused himself and went to his old cabin to have a nap. He had briefly phoned Elena but had saved the good news for his return. And sleep came on top of him as soon as his head touched his pillow.

When he woke up, the plane was landing. Feeling completely disoriented, it took him a while to remember what he was doing in his cabin aboard the Paladin and focus on what he was supposed to do. Then somebody knocked on the door, and he sighed. He only wanted to be back to sleep, but sadly that would probably have to wait.

_ Come in.

The door opened as he sat up and Briggs entered, looking rested but sympathetic.

_ Hi, mate! Sleep well?

_ I won't answer that, Kestrel said, rubbing his face with another sigh. I have the feeling I'm slowly transforming into a dormouse. I just need sleep. A lot of sleep, мой друг _(my friend)_.

_ We all can see that, Briggs said, frowning in concern and sitting on the bed next to his best friend. You've really pushed yourself too far, mate.

_ I'll admit I have. But better that than you and Sam dead, isn't it?

_ I would be an ungrateful son of a bitch if I said otherwise.

A few seconds of complicit silence passed between them, then Briggs said rather reluctantly:

_ We have to escort our guests to Voron's people. Are you ready?

_ Can I have a shower first?

_ Yes, Briggs smiled. Jdan and his welcome team will arrive in ten minutes. Apparently the streets are already packed with snow in Moscow.

_ That doesn't surprise me.

With a last sigh Kestrel rose and gathered some clean clothes, then grabbed his cane. But before he could exit his cabin Briggs said with a voice choked with emotion:

_ I won't be able to thank you enough for what you've done, mate. But Molly and I wanted to ask you something.

Kestrel, a little surprised, turned towards his best friend and simply waited. Briggs said after clearing his throat:

_ Could I ask you to be the godfather of our coming baby?

Kestrel wasn't expecting such a request, and his brain was sluggish, like a drifting cloud in a lazy breeze, but finally he realized what the words meant, and he said with a wide grin:

_ It will be an honor, мой друг _._ I'm so happy! Sorry, I'm a little slow for now, but...

_ Don't worry, Briggs cut him gently with a large grin and clapping him on his shoulder. I can see your exhaustion. But now, go and have your shower. Hopefully you'll feel better after that.

_ I really hope so, Kestrel sighed, wanting to shake away his dizziness.

Ten minutes later, fully clothed and beard neatly cut, he made his way to the control room. Sam, Grim and Briggs were there, with Ivkin, Ieshevskiy and Remizov. All the people welcomed him with a smile, but Sam scowled a little and said:

_ You don't look rested, sonny.

_ True enough, Sam, Kestrel admitted, sitting on an empty armchair next to Grim. I just hope I'll be able to sleep during our flight back.

_ Not only you'll be able to, but I'll order you to do so. You've done more than enough.

_ We can only agree with this, Ieshevskiy added seriously.

_ Here they come, Grim announced calmly, peering through one of the small windows.

_ Then let's go, Sam said, rising to his good foot and leaning heavily on his crutch, his other arm still imprisoned in the splint. Boys, go fetch our guests, please.

Kestrel followed the three Russians and Briggs towards the detention block, and smiled nastily at seeing the prisoners sprawled on the bunks or the floor of the cells and looking terrified. Ieshevskiy told them calmly but with a wicked gleam in his eyes:

_ This is your last stop. Welcome to Moscow.

Fujiwara, all dignity forgotten, whimpered and moaned as Briggs and Ivkin made him rise to his feet and handed him to Kestrel who handcuffed his hands behind his back and steered him outside. Kestrel noticed that Lebedeva and Kniazev, although very pale and anxious, kept their mouths shut. They knew what awaited them, and faced their fate with more grip on their nerves than the pitiful American traitor.

He pushed Fujiwara in front of him to the cargo hold, then slowly went down the boarding ramp. On the frozen tarmac filled with snow, twelve Voron agents were waiting for them, forming a line facing them, with Sam and Grim at their side. Jdan smiled broadly at the sight of him and said solemnly:

_ Welcome to Moscow, Mishka! In the name of Voron, we are happy to see you awake and well enough, in spite of your bad leg. And thank you for bringing us this piece of shit.

_ Здравствуйте _(Hello)_ , Kestrel said calmly, smiling faintly too and rejoicing at the relaxed faces in front of him. Yes, some present we've brought you, huh? I do hope you'll take care of him in a nice way, Goga.

_ You can count on me, Mishka, Jdan said evilly while two of his men went around a shaking Fujiwara and steered him away towards a nearby armored truck. Why shouldn't we take care of him? He only ordered the horrible murder of our commander and his innocent family, after all.

Kestrel shook hands with Jdan and Marinov next to him, his old friends, and said while Kniazev and Lebedeva were brought next to them:

_ And I believe you wanted to have these people back?

_ Yes, Jdan said, eyeing the Voron traitors with disgust and hatred. They will pay, too.

Kestrel nodded as the three prisoners were escorted to and hoisted into the armored truck by ten very grim Voron agents, and heaved a small sigh as the thick doors closed on them. He watched the truck disappear down the tarmac and exit the airport, then focused back on Jdan and Marinov who were quietly talking with Sam, Ivkin, Ieshevskiy and Remizov. Jdan was saying:

_ … very grateful, Sam Fisher. Honestly, I wouldn't have believed you would hold your word. Thanks again.

_ It was a matter of honor, Georguiy Antonovich, Sam replied calmly. When I'm asked to do some work, I do it through and through. But now I'm retired, so don't ask me anything else about this kind of job, please.

_ We won't, Jdan assured him. As far as I'm concerned, the slate is clean between all of us. Now we'll be able to go back to our old rivalry with the American agencies.

Kestrel felt a faint smile on his lips, and tried to ignore his exhaustion as Jdan turned towards him and said:

_ Before you fly back to your country, Mishka, I wanted to tell you that if you want to visit Igor's grave, Oska will guide you.

_ That would be nice indeed, he said gratefully as the thought of seeing the grave of his old friend comforted him a little. Sam?

He turned towards the Splinter Cell who nodded gravely:

_ You have time, sonny. We must have a refuelling, so you can go. With this crutch I won't be able to accompany you, I'm sorry.

_ I'll go with you, if it's okay, Briggs offered with a smile.

_ That's nice, мой друг.

Marinov, whose nickname was Oska, short for Josef, stood ready as Jdan said:

_ Well, we have some nasty work to do. Thanks again, all of you, and take care. Mishka, I don't think we'll see each other again...

_ Probably not, Kestrel agreed sadly. But if I ever want to spend some holidays in Russia, I'll phone you, Goga.

Jdan only nodded, obviously fighting some deeply buried emotion, then they shook hands. Ivkin, Ieshevskiy and Remizov followed, and the latter said in an undertone:

_ Sorry, Mishka. For everything. But now, just live on. Enjoy your American life with your family.

_ Thanks, Liova. Take care.

Kestrel took a deep breath and shot a last look at his old Voron comrades as they said goodbye to the team and left in a huge SUV. Then Marinov asked calmly:

_ Shall we go, then, Mishka?

_ I'm right behind you, Oska, he said, regaining his usual composure.

He followed the Russian agent to another SUV, Briggs at his side, and noticed that his limping was worse than usual. The exhaustion, he thought inwardly. He sighed while sitting on the passenger seat of the car, and soon Marinov drove him to the clogged streets of Moscow. He asked while watching with detached emotion the capital of his former country:

_ Where is Igor buried, then?

_ Kuntsevo cemetery, Marinov answered with a little quiver in his voice.

Kestrel stayed silent. Sam had told him that Marinov felt guilty about his commander's death, but nothing he could tell him would change that. Living with crushing guilt and painful regrets was something he knew intimately, after Alpha and Archer's deaths among many other things.

His thoughts wandered as they advanced through large avenues then smaller streets, recalling all that had happened to him since the time he had debriefed his last mission for Voron in Moscow. So many things, he remembered with mixed feelings: betrayal, pain, loneliness, guilt, love, anger, revenge... And now here he was, driven to the grave of his very last close friend in Russia, accompanied by his American best friend and a close colleague, and longing to go back to Baltimore and see his future wife and his son. Yes, he thought dimly, so much has happened to you, мой друг. But now Russia is definitely behind you. He knew he wouldn't keep in touch with Jdan or any other Voron member. That was something he did with only Igor Kossiak, and now that the Russian was dead, nobody would call him from his former country anymore, and neither would he.

Marinov parked the SUV next to a beautiful church with elegant domes, and Kestrel extracted himself with difficulty from his seat. Briggs held out his hand and he took it gratefully, not bitter anymore about his bad leg. He had accepted it. He leaned heavily on his cane while following the Russian agent towards the cemetery, Briggs still at his side, and trying to protect himself from the swirling snowflakes that had started to fall. He slipped twice on the frozen ground and almost fell once, but fortunately for him Briggs caught him just in time.

_ Thanks, мой друг.

_ Don't break your leg now, mate, or Elena will flay you alive.

_ Yes, I think she would, he admitted with a wince, his leg hurting him even more.

_ Here, Marinov said, stopping in front of four brand new graves and wiping his eyes.

Kestrel studied the graves with sadness and regret. He could accept Igor's death, such were the risks when you were a member of Voron, or Fourth Echelon, or any other agency or army. But the murder of Igor's innocent family was much harder to accept. Tears gathered in front of his gaze, and he felt them freezing on his cheeks. He murmured in Russian:

_ Sorry, my friend. There was nothing I could do for you this time. I just hope you're happy with your family, wherever you are.

He heard a stifled sob behind him and guessed that Marinov had cracked. Then he felt Briggs' hand resting gently on his shoulder, and said with a last look at the graves:

_ Let's go back home.

He met Briggs' sad gaze and Marinov's grieving one, and they made their way back to the SUV. As they climbed aboard, Kestrel asked Marinov:

_ Oska, will you keep an eye on them?

_ Yes, the Russian said after a deep breath. I already do, but I swear to you that I'll watch over them, Mishka.

_ Thanks, Oska. And don't beat yourself up anymore. There are things we cannot change.

_ If only we could...

Silence fell inside the car, and nothing more was said as they went back to the airport. Marinov drove them right at the Paladin's boarding ramp, and Kestrel shook hands with him, saying calmly but his heart twisting in regret:

_ Farewell, Oska.

_ Farewell, Mishka.

Marinov hastily left, trying to hide his tears, and Kestrel watched him exiting the tarmac. He stood a few more seconds under the snow, taking a last look at his country of birth, then Briggs asked him softly:

_ Mishka? Are you ready to leave?

_ Yes, мой друг, he said with a firm voice. I'm ready. I just want to go home.

_ Join the club.

They made their way to the control room, Kestrel staggering a little on his sore feet and aching leg, and Sam said when seeing him entering the room:

_ Good. Now we take off. To Baltimore we go. And Mishka, you go to sleep straight away.

_ Daddy, Kestrel protested weakly, I...

_ No more, sonny! Sam cut him with a wink. I don't want to be killed by Elena when we arrive, so Briggs will escort you to your cabin, and I forbid you to wake up until we land, do you hear me?

_ Loud and clear, he muttered, only thinking of his comfortable bed.

And in no time, as Briggs closed the door of his cabin with a last wink, he was drifting into a blissful sleep, only thinking about the reaction Elena would have at hearing that she and Aliosha were American, making her wish come true.

* * *

 **Nine months later, July 2022**

Kestrel was taking the last blinis from the fridge and putting them on the low table in the lounge when the doorbell rang. He limped to the front door and opened on the smiling faces of Briggs and James, and Sam's more serious one.

_ Hi, everyone! Come in, it's starting soon!

_ Hi, mate! Briggs clapped him on the shoulder. Today's an important day for us, I wouldn't want to miss it.

_ Hello, uncle Mishka! James exclaimed, jumping to Kestrel's neck. Look, I've put my American jersey! Oh, so have you!

_ Good, Sam said as he shook hands last with the former ops. For a moment I feared you would've changed sides and betrayed us.

_ Daddy... Kestrel sighed while closing the door and leading them to the lounge. I'm American since eight years ago, am I not?

_ Yes, the Splinter Cell nodded, a malicious gleam in his eyes. But it's the final of your soccer World Cup, and fortunately for us it's the USA against Russia. So I had doubts.

_ I haven't changed sides, Kestrel smiled as Aliosha rushed into the room, also wearing a small American jersey. Boys, he addressed his son and his nephew, you have half an hour before the match starts. I'll call you.

_ Okay, Daddy, Aliosha said, saying hello to Sam and Briggs. Don't forget to call us!

_ I promise, ребёнок _(child)_.

The two boys ran to the garden, and soon Kestrel could hear them running and shouting as they played soccer. He gestured at his friends to take a seat and went to fetch the drinks. Soon he was sipping a fresh soda while Briggs and Sam enjoyed a beer, and Sam asked:

_ Where are Elena and Dariya, then?

_ At my place, Briggs answered. All the girls together, with our two little boys.

_ What a party it must be, Sam said with a grin. Leo is still resilient to sleep, lucky me I'm here.

_ Jeremiah sleeps like a rock, Briggs teased him with a broad smile. He slept at night as soon as he was one month old.

_ Lucky you, Sam groaned in disgust, making Kestrel and Briggs laugh. Leo's four months old, and he can't sleep more than three hours, even at night. Always hungry, he is. Grim is exhausted, and so am I.

_ That's because you're not so young anymore, Daddy, Kestrel winked, laughing inwardly at Sam's coming reaction.

_ I'm only sixty-five! Sam protested with an indignant expression as his two former ops laughed twice more. What about your daughter, then, Mishka?

_ Dariya is only a month old, he said with a wicked smile, but she sleeps at night too. From 10 pm to 6 am.

_ Completely unfair, Sam muttered dejectedly.

_ Your son has some character, Briggs said leniently, the corner of his mouth twitching. After all, you named him after some nerved people.

_ Leo Samuel Irving Fisher, Kestrel recalled calmly. Yes, a whole program.

_ Speak for yourselves, boys! How have you named your children again?

_ Jeremiah Jacob Briggs, for my father, Briggs explained. A sweet-tempered man.

Kestrel snorted, having met Briggs' father twice. If Jacob Briggs was sweet-tempered, he was a ballerina. He said ironically:

_ Dariya Mikhailovna Loskova. Named after a very sweet-tempered man too.

_ Ha! Sam laughed derisively. That's probably true now, but remember you eight years ago, sonny. You were a boiling hot volcano at that time.

_ True, Kestrel admitted with a smile, remembering some memorable anger crisis, when he had destroyed some furniture. But now I'm a peaceful father.

_ And about a father, Briggs said, I think Charlie will soon announce some good news.

_ You think Andrea is pregnant? Sam asked in astonishment.

_ Yes, Briggs nodded. Or rather, Molly thinks she is. She told me her behaviour had changed a little. She erupts in huge anger for little nothings since two months ago.

_ They would make good parents, Kestrel said, rejoicing inwardly. I just hope Charlie won't be too worried.

_ His lack of a father won't prevent him to be a good one, Sam assured. And I'm sure he regards Vic as a future grandfather.

_ That would be great for Victor, Briggs said. He was so envious of you, Sam, to have grandchildren. Now, if the rumors are true, he'll be your equal.

_ He'll spoil Charlie's child, yes, Sam smiled. Well, another great event to celebrate soon, I hope. By the way, when will you marry Elena, sonny? Have you made up your mind for a day at last?

_ Yes, we have, Kestrel answered calmly. But we'll tell you all when we're together next Sunday at your place, Sam.

_ Good, the Splinter Cell said, rubbing his hands in satisfaction. I'll have some champagne ready, then.

_ If you want, Kestrel said with a large grin, rising to his feet and switching on the television.

The match would start in five minutes, so he called out the boys who ran into the room excitedly, and passed the plate of blinis. And as the soccer teams were forming a line into a stadium at the other end of the world and the American anthem resonated through the loudspeakers, Kestrel felt a huge wave of emotion gripping his guts. Yes, he thought dimly while singing the anthem along with the boys, Sam and Briggs, you're truly American now, мой друг _(my friend)_. And you have a wonderful family and dear friends. Nothing could be better on Earth.


End file.
